Unearthly Desires
by LadyNightRunner
Summary: Just how many times can you die before you start to change? How many times can you go out alone before you aren't alone anymore? How many times does your enemy have to come to you before you aren't enemies anymore? Vincent is about to find out.
1. Bad Signs

I present to you the first chapter of a story that I started back in April or May as a request from 'stina. Her words were ' a vampire story with Sephiroth, Vincent, and Cloud'. This is that story. I've got a piece of art on the way that I'll link to for the second chapter of this, and I hope you enjoy.

A few notes: I create my own take on vampires by combining aspects from classic models of vampirism. If you want an exact description of A) how my vampires function, or B) how Sephiroth and his situation work, just let me know. Vincent is not a vampire. I have never believed that he is one, and will never make him one without a good reason. Aerith is not my favorite character, but I do believe that she keeps an eye on CLoud and helps him when she can. That includes listening through the pool in the church.

As always, I am open to questions, comments, requests, critique, and praise.

* * *

It was late afternoon on an overcast August day. Tifa was working in the kitchen, flooding the downstairs with the smell of sautéing garlic. Cloud pulled up outside, back from a delivery, dusted himself down- to avoid the wrath of Tifa- and headed inside. Halfway down the hall, he stopped short, feeling instantly nauseous. Confused, he covered his mouth with one hand.

"Cloud? Is that you?"

"Y-yeah."

"How was the trip?"

"Fine."

"Where are you? Your voice sounds kind of muffled."

Cloud took a couple of steps closer to the kitchen to better answer the question, paled, then turned an abrupt about face and bolted out the back door.

From his second-floor vantage point, Vincent watched Cloud scrambled down the back walk and make a rather clumsy dive for the trashcans lined up against the garage wall. If the way his shoulders and back were shaking was any indicator, he was _very_ sick. Vincent pushed the window fully open and hopped out, landing neatly a few paces away from Cloud.

"Cloud?" he ventured.

The blonde in question swatted weakly in his direction. He sighed, stepped closer, and slipped an arm around his waist, letting Cloud use his hip as a brace.

"Cloud?' Tifa had followed his lead and come outside. "Cl- what happened?"

"I have no idea," Vincent murmured. Cloud straightened shakily and pulled out of Vincent's hold.

"I'm okay," he said hoarsely.

"Okay? Cloud, you don't throw up when you're okay."

"I just ate something bad," Cloud said quickly. "I'm going to go lie down."

Vincent and Tifa followed him inside, neither of them quite sure what to do with him. He stumbled when he neared the kitchen, swayed, then regained his balance and double-timed it up the stairs.

"Vincent, would you…"

"Of course."

"Thanks."

Cloud answered as soon as Vincent knocked, sleepily inviting him in. The room was smoky and smelled strongly of pine incense, giving Vincent an instant headache. The source was a small, ornate incense burner on the desk that Vincent recognized as the one Yuffie had given Cloud two years ago. Cloud was lounging on his bed.

"What is it?"

"Tifa is worried. She asked me to come up."

"I'm _fine_, Vincent, really."

Vincent gave Cloud a skeptical look.

"You're lying to me."

"I am not. Tifa worries too much, and so do- are you okay?"

"The incense is rather strong."

"Sorry. The whole house smells like garlic, and I had to do something about it. Sit down?"

Vincent did, crossing his arms and giving Cloud a look that said 'go on'.

"Don't look at me like that," Cloud grumbled. "I haven't done anything."

"If you're sick, then tell her. It doesn't matter if you deem it inconsequential; it will make her feel better."

"I know that, but I swear I'm not sick."

"Oh? Then what are you?"

"I'm…um…hungry, actually."

"Hungry."

"Yes."

"You have no business being hungry after what just happened outside."

"I know," Cloud said softly. "I just…am."

"I'll get Tifa," Vincent sighed, getting up. "This is more her field than mine."

"No!" Cloud yelped. He lunged across the bed and grabbed at Vincent's hands. He was careful with the clawed one, pushing it under Vincent's cloak. Vincent flexed his hand instinctively to gauge the strength of Cloud's grip and the sharp points of his claws pierced the leather of his shirt, leaving shallow scratches on his chest.

"Let go of me, Cloud."

"Don't get Tifa. She has enough to worry about already. She doesn't- you're bleeding."

"My fingers are sharp," Vincent said shortly. "Let go."

"Wait, let me see," Cloud said vaguely, reaching for the buckles on Vincent's cloak. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"What do you think you're doing?" Vincent asked, trying to pull his flesh hand out of Cloud's grasp. The clawed one was free, but he was hesitant to use it unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Looking to see how bad it is. Don't move."

Vincent's cloak hit the floor. Cloud reached for the buttons of his shirt next. He made quick work of them and shoved the sides of the shirt back. Three thin cuts oozed blood over Vincent's sternum, unnaturally bright against his pale skin. "Sorry."

"It's fine. You can let go."

Cloud ignored him, reaching out and swiping his finger through the blood. He hesitated, then licked his finger clean. Vincent shuddered.

"Let go of me. Now."

Cloud looked up. His eyes had a slightly glazed look to them.

"Why? You taste good."

Vincent tried to jerk his hand free. Cloud scowled and grabbed Vincent's other hand, then used the leverage to pull Vincent down onto the bed.

"Cloud, let go of me."

"I don't want to," Cloud said dreamily. He pinned both of Vincent's hands under one of his, a feat he shouldn't have been able to manage, and sat on Vincent's knees, his free hand on Vincent's chest. "I want to try more."

Vincent kicked ineffectually, trying to either fall off the edge of the bed or dislodge Cloud. It didn't work. All Cloud did was dig his fingers into the scratches, struggling to deepen them with his short, blunt nails. It hurt, but Vincent bit down on any protest and focused on trying to jerk his hands free.

"Don't move," Cloud whispered. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Too late," Vincent growled. His feet found purchase on the mattress and he dug his heels in, attempting to buck Cloud off. Cloud grabbed his shoulder and hung on until Vincent gave up.

"That's right, just lie there." Satisfied that Vincent was going to obey, Cloud released his hands and bent over the cuts. While not dangerously deep, the added damage Cloud had inflicted made blood well up in earnest, threatening to spill over the ragged edges of the wounds.

Vincent squirmed when he felt Cloud's tongue prod the wounds.

"_Stop_."

He felt Cloud smile against his skin and shuddered. Cloud pulled back a little and resumed scratching at the cuts, joining them into one bloody mess. After a moment, he ducked back down and continued licking. Not satisfied with what that was getting him, he tried sucking. It was more effective than the licking, and he went at it quite enthusiastically. Vincent stayed still until he started to nibble; then he grabbed Cloud's shoulders and tried to pull him off. Cloud's response was to bite down hard. Vincent went limp. This was wrong. Cloud shouldn't have been so strong, capable of pinning him down without visible effort.

Eventually, Cloud began to slow. He stopped sucking and began to lick again, cleaning up the mess he's made of Vincent's chest; there was blood everywhere, all over his face and smeared from Vincent's belt to his collarbone.

Then he froze.

Vincent opened his eyes. Cloud was hovering over him, eyes wide and panicked.

"Vincent?"

"Yes?"

"Did I…did I just…just…"

"You did."

Cloud scrambled off him and pressed against the wall, scrubbing furiously at his lips.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking. Really, I didn't mean-"

"Has this happened before?" Vincent asked, sitting up. He pulled his shirt off fully and laid it across his knees.

"I…I don't think so. T-there a towel on the chair, if you want to…er…clean up."

Vincent carefully blotted at his chest with the towel, wincing when it stuck to the raw edges of the wound.

"I need to know, Cloud."

"I don't know!" Cloud surged off the bed and yanked the towel out of Vincent's hand/ "If I _knew_ I was going to do _this_-" he gestured forcefully at the blood "- I would have said something, and this wouldn't have happened!"

Vincent said nothing, but grabbed the towel back, using it to pull Cloud to him. He resisted a little, but came without a real fight. Holding his shoulder, Vincent forced Cloud's head to the side. Two small, red wounds were visible on the skin of his neck.

"What are these?"

"What are what?"

"These," Vincent said, prodding the tiny dots.

Cloud reached up and felt them, confused.

"Where did these come from?" he breathed.

"You don't know?'

"No. Wait…but I thought I was dreaming. There shouldn't be anything there."

"A dream? What sort of dream?"

Cloud pulled away from Vincent and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, keeping one hand over the marks.

"I camped out on my way back from Junon and had this dream that someone bit me here…but I woke up after. It was just a dream."

"A dream with teeth," Vincent snorted.

"It'll heal."

"Perhaps. But will your apparent lust for blood fade with the bite?"

"What are you saying?" Cloud growled, suddenly defensive.

"I'm saying that you are dangerous. What if a glass breaks in the bar and Tifa cuts herself? What if Marlene falls, or Denzel gets into a fight? What will you do when you see the blood?"

There had been a time when he would have enjoyed seeing Cloud's face harden. He knew how far under Cloud's skin he had gotten- Tifa and the children were his life. It brought him no pleasure today.

"I can control my urges."

"Oh? _This_ is control?"

"What do you want me to do, then? Go downstairs and tell Tifa that something bit me and I'm turning into a bloodthirsty monster? Huh?"

"Go to the church," Vincent said levelly. "Perhaps Aerith will have an answer."

"_Fine_. But don't follow me."

--------------------------------------------

Vincent waited until he saw Cloud pull out and roar away before tending to his injuries. Cloud hadn't scored particularly deep, but he had managed to shred a patch of skin at least as wide as Vincent's hand and that needed tending to. There were also five finger-shaped red marks around his wrist that were already starting to bruise.

"Vincent, did you talk to Cloud?"

"Sort of," Vincent said, loud enough for Tifa to hear him through the bathroom door.

"Anything helpful?"

"Not exactly." He hissed softly at the pain of the disinfectant on his chest. Damn, that hurt. "I sent him to the church. Perhaps Aerith can get more out of him."

"She usually can," Tifa sighed. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

-----------------------------------------

After cleaning up, Vincent retreated to his room and locked the door.

"Chaos?" he whispered, settling on the bed and prodding the brooding weight at the back of his mind.

_What?_ The demon shifted irritably. _You choose _now_ to speak to me?_

"I beg your pardon?"

_I tried to get your attention while you were playing the part of dinner. You didn't respond._

"I didn't hear you."

_You didn't? I was being as loud as I could._

Vincent winced. Chaos' loud could cause instant splitting headaches, and he had missed it completely.

"Not a word. Can you tell me what's happening to Cloud? Anything?"

_Vampirism. A cousin of the classic strain._

"You're kidding."

_I don't kid about things that threaten us. Think about it: he had a violent reaction to the smell of garlic. Unnatural strength. Blood lust geared towards nourishment. Preference for a dark environment. Two small puncture wounds on his neck. Face it, Valentine, someone bit him and gave it to him_

"You make it sound like a disease."

_It is a disease. A virus, in fact. Transmitted through blood only._

"Can anything be done?"

_Teach him control, and make sure he can get to a clean animal or a willing donor._

"Speaking of which…am I at risk?"

_Transmission tends to be a conscious effort. He didn't actually bite you to begin with, not with fangs, and he isn't far enough along to have the ability. Don't worry about it._

"Don't _worry_ about it? _Cloud_ just pinned me down, clawed my chest to ribbons, and drank my blood, Chaos, and I couldn't stop him. I have very good reason to worry."

_He doesn't have fangs yet. Until he gets them, he can't do much damage on his own and the blood lust should only surface when there is already blood present._

"How long?"

_Several days, if you're lucky_

"And if I'm not?"

_Eight hours._

"Tell me all you know about this, then. I need to be prepared."

----------------------------------------

Cloud approached the church door at a trot. Aerith could tell him what was wrong. She could fix it.

He pulled the door open, took a step inside, and was blown backwards. He landed awkwardly on his back nearly ten feet away and lay there for a minute, winded. Then he picked himself up and tried again.

Ten minutes later, the concussion from his most recent attempt at reentering the church sent him flying into the wall across the street with mildly blistered hands and the smell of burnt hair surrounding him. He slumped to the ground, defeated.

"Cloud?"

Vincent stood over him, hands on hips.

"What?"

"I'll ask her," Vincent said quietly. "You should be able to get in if she invites you."

"What?"

"Get up."

Reluctantly, Cloud picked himself up and trailed after Vincent. He didn't try to step though the doorway, just stopped outside it and waited, watching Vincent continue to the water.

Inside, Vincent knelt beside the pool, hoping that Aerith was paying attention.

"Cloud needs to come in," he said softly. "He needs your permission."

_Alright_.

He felt more than heard the response and turned to the door, nodding at Cloud.

"You're sure?" Cloud asked.

"I am."

Hesitantly, Cloud stepped inside, waiting to be thrown backwards when he hit the threshold. He wasn't. Encouraged, he joined Vincent at the water's edge.

Bits of the light on the water's surface gathered and coalesced into Aerith, standing on empty air just above the water. She had one hand wrapped around the opposite wrist, twisting the bracelets she wore.

"What's happened, Cloud?"

"I…I don't know."

"He's been bitten by a vampire," Vincent said. Cloud looked up sharply.

"I've been _what_?"

"Bitten by a vampire."

"Where did you get _that _idea?"

"Chaos."

"And he's suddenly _not_ a bloodthirsty monster in his own right? Since when is he any help when you're not in danger?" Cloud snapped, getting up and taking a seat on the nearest piece of rubble.

"He has been a help since after Meteor," Vincent said. "His knowledge of the Planet and its inhabitants has gotten me out of a number of tight spots."

"He's a monster!"

"As are you, now," Vincent said coldly.

"I am not!"

"Cloud, you should listen to Vincent." Aerith had been largely forgotten while they argued, so her words were a surprise that quieted both Vincent and Cloud.

"_Listen_ to him? Aerith, you heard what he said!"

"I did, and I believe him."

"But-"

"Trust me, Cloud."

Cloud scowled, but looked expectantly at Vincent.

"Well?" he sighed.

Vincent crouched beside him and began to explain.

----------------------------------

When Vincent finished, the sun had set.

"That's it, then," Cloud said softly. "I'm dependant on blood for the rest of my life."

"Yes. Chaos does not know of a cure. He has, however, been wrong before. There could be a chance."

"I'll see what I can learn about this," Aerith offered. "I do have resources neither of you do."

"Thanks."

Aerith smiled and vanished, her faint light fading into the glow of the moon overhead.

"Tifa is worried," Vincent murmured. "You should go home and calm her."

"What am I supposed to tell her?"

"The truth, or anything else you like."

Cloud nodded slowly, eyes dull, and turned towards the door. Vincent sat back on the worn floor and watched the water. It was never really still, giving him an endless mosaic of shifting light to contemplate.

Outside, Cloud's motorcycle rumbled to life and roared away. Silence settled over the church like a heavy snowfall. Somehow, even though Aerith's church was not in a truly abandoned area, it was always quiet.

_You're going to have to help him._

"And how can I do that?"

_You've lived with me for over thirty years. Riding herd on another monster can't be too hard._

Vincent sighed and closed his eyes.

"You were never anything more or less than what you are."

_I've changed._

"For the better, not for the worse. Cloud has changed drastically in the worst way possible."

_Who else can help? Tifa? I think not. You and I know more about this than anyone else alive. It has to be you._

A soft splash made Vincent look up sharply, searching for the source of the noise. Nothing. Ripples don't show well on water that is already moving.

"You _will_ help me with this."

_Yep._

"Help you with what?"

Vincent jumped, looking up and behind him. Someone was standing over him, dripping wet. Moonlight turned ridiculously long hair into liquid silver cloaking broad shoulders and framing an angular face. Sephiroth. Vincent was on his feet in an instant, clawed hand up to defend himself- they were too close together for a gun.

"Talking to yourself, Valentine? I thought you were more grounded than that."

Vincent brought his hand across and down, tearing into the pale skin bared by Sephiroth's signature leather coat. There was blood, but not the gush of it Vincent expected. He had felt his claws score deep enough to grate on bone, slide off the bone, and dip into the body cavity beneath. There should be a gory mess now, perhaps even a glimpse of the pink, glistening organs within. As Vincent watched, the wound closed. Sephiroth watched as well, looking rather interested.

"One of the advantages to being dead is that you can't die again," he observed, fingering the unbroken skin.

"What are you doing here?"

Vincent evaluated his options. In front of him: Sephiroth. Behind him: the water. To the right: wooden pews. To the left: Open space. Going forward was not an option. Neither was going back- the Holy water didn't agree with his soiled flesh. He could vault a few of the pews, or he could make a dash for the fallen pillars across the open space to his left.

Sephiroth decided for him. His left hand came up. Vincent ducked to the left, into open space. Sephiroth lunged, one leg snapping out to tangle with Vincent's feet. Vincent hit the old boards with a thud, biting back a yelp when Sephiroth fell on him, flat on the bandages over his chest.

"Ah-ah," Sephiroth chided. "Not so fast. I didn't come all this way just to have you go running off when I show up."

"Get off," Vincent growled, drawing his hand back for another strike. Sephiroth grabbed it and pinned it over his head.

"No. I need to feed, and you're already bleeding. You smell _good_."

With his free hand, Sephiroth made quick work of Vincent's cloak and shirt. He shifted, straddling the gunman's thighs, so he was free to push the cloth and leather out of the way. He fingered the bandages.

"Did Cloud do this?"

Vincent glared at him.

"He did, didn't he? Typical. No finesse, just big, graceless motions that don't accomplish the objective to the fullest extent. He may learn in time, but I doubt it."

Sephiroth brought his hand up to his mouth and bit the tip of his finger, drawing his hand down to slide the sleek black leather glove off. He smiled around the leather. Vincent's eyes widened. No human had canines like those.

"You bit Cloud," he breathed.

"Mmm. I was expecting him to try and bite that top-heavy girlfriend of his, but it looks like he can't tell the difference between a couple of tall people with dark hair and exotic eyes. Always knew he swung both ways." Sephiroth swapped hands, tossing the gloves out of the way. "Did he get further than this? Lower, perhaps?"

Vincent shook his head. Sephiroth smiled.

"Good. I'd hate to see any more of you shredded needlessly."

Sephiroth reached for Vincent's belt, undid it, and drew it from the belt loops. He shook it out over Vincent's chest, collecting the end and the buckle together in his hand. Leaning forward, he wrapped the heavy leather neatly around Vincent's wrists, twisting so Vincent couldn't claw his way free without cutting his other hand to ribbons. Satisfied that Vincent's hands were no longer a threat, he sat back and traced the scars down Vincent's chest and belly with one long finger.

"If you're going to bite me, get it over with," Vincent hissed angrily, sitting up awkwardly. Sephiroth pushed him back down.

"I don't like the way fear tastes in the blood. Pleasure is far better, so I treat my food well."

"It's bad manners to play with your food."

"It's also bad manners to help murder your almost lover's son, but here we are. I'm dead, so you can forgive me this lapse in manners." He leaned forward, resting most of his weight on his hands, and hitched himself forwards so he was straddling Vincent's hips instead of his legs. His hips ground against Vincent's as he straightened, flicking his wet hair out of his face, and Vincent made a small noise.

"Better," Sephiroth observed, shrugging his coat off and tossing it in the general direction of his gloves. "This can be a very enjoyable experience for you, if you relax and let me get on with it."

Vincent glared at him.

"Or we could do this the hard way, with me dragging you every step of the way, until you finally give up and finish your evening thoroughly disgusted with both of us. Which will it be?"

Vincent tested the range of motion he had in his arms. Not enough to club Sephiroth with his clawed hand. Damn.

"I see. Stubborn, aren't you?"

Not bothering to wait for an answer, Sephiroth bent low, settling himself on Vincent's chest, and forced Vincent's head up, baring his neck. Vincent braced for the bite and was thoroughly shocked when a hot tongue ran along his jugular instead.

"Wh-"

"I already _told_ you," Sephiroth chuckled, not lifting his head. "I don't like fear. If having a decent meal means going to extreme lengths…then I don't mind."

He resumed his licking, working from the side of Vincent's neck to his throat, fangs scraping lightly over his Adam's apple. Vincent held as still as he could, trying not to shiver.

Sephiroth grew bored with the unbroken skin of Vincent's neck and moved upwards, teeth grazing Vincent's jaw and nipping gently at his lips. Vincent tightened his lips into a thin line, a vague deterrent that had no effect. Sephiroth only smiled and forced a finger into Vincent's mouth, using it as a lever to force Vincent's mouth open properly. Withdrawing his hand, he crushed his mouth against Vincent's, forcing his tongue into Vincent's mouth. Vincent tensed, about to bite, then felt the fangs that went with the tongue and held still, letting Sephiroth kiss him breathless.

He pulled back after a long moment, faintly pink in the cheeks, and let Vincent gasp and pant.

"Always knew I could get the same effect from a man," he said smugly, licking his lips. "You taste divine, even if you can't kiss to save your life. How many partners have you had?"

"What?"

"I'll take that as very few, then. Lucky you."

Vincent protested weakly. Every ounce of sense he had screamed that he should fight his way free. Every nerve ending he had demanded that he stay put. He couldn't hear Chaos.

"Just behave yourself. You'll like this."

"But-"

"Sshhhh…don't say anything. I don't want to miss and hit your throat."

Vincent froze. Sephiroth's lips were just inches from his neck- the dead man was laying flat on him, covering most of Vincent's body with his own.

"That's right. Hold still."

Sephiroth's tone was soothing and quiet. Calming. The kind of voice you would use when working with a dangerous animal. That got Vincent's attention.

"What did you _do _to me?" he yelped, fighting Sephiroth's weight.

"I thought I'd subdued you. Apparently not." Sephiroth propped himself up on his elbows and gave Vincent a critical look. "It must be that thing in your head." He smiled. "It's listening to everything I'm saying, isn't it?"

"I don't know."

"Don't you? Or are you cut off from it?"

"What did you do to him?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit," Vincent hissed, kicking ineffectually at Sephiroth's legs. "You know why I can't hear him."

"Just natural laws, Vincent. The strong overpower the weak. I have more power than your pet, so I drown it out by simply being here. I imagine Cloud will do the same. Satisfied? I'd like to get on with it."

"We aren't getting on with _anything_."

"Oh, but we are." Sephiroth ground his hips against Vincent's. Vincent squirmed at the feeling, wanting to get away from it before sensation won over rationality and he did something to tell Sephiroth that it felt good. "And you _really_ need to stop fighting."

"I will _not _sto-aah!"

"Yes, you will," Sephiroth said smugly, rocking his hips again. He'd straightened up, putting his hips at a better angle to Vincent's. "Because I know you like this."

"I do not!"

"Oh? I'd say you do, or you wouldn't have moaned like that. It sounded like a good noise to me."

_Vincent! Fuck it all, I…just…him…let him!...over…lasting damage…make him…make……swear…turn!_

Hearing Chaos was like hearing mental radio static, but the gist of his message got through to Vincent. Let Sephiroth bite him. There wouldn't be a real problem with it. Force him to swear that he wouldn't try and turn Vincent.

"Fine, then," Vincent sighed.

"Hmmm?"

"Do what you want. But don't you even _think_ about turning me into something like you."

Sephiroth grinned at him

"Why would I want to do that?" he purred, settling back onto Vincent's chest. "I can't feed on you if you're like me- there's no nutritional value. I don't do junk food."

"I am _not-_"

"And you won't be. Now be quiet."

Vincent closed his mouth and relaxed into Sephiroth. Sephiroth shifted to settle himself and brushed Vincent's hair away from his neck. Then he stopped.

"Since you're being so obliging…do you want me to do it from the neck? Or somewhere else?"

"Huh?"

"I can do it here, on your neck, here, at your elbow, or here, at your groin. All easily accessible places that guarantee me a decent meal. I've heard being bitten below the belt can be a very wild ride." He touched each place as he named it, brushing long fingers over Vincent's throat, his bare arm, and almost playfully over the zipper on his pants. He had to arch his hips to do it.

"The neck," Vincent said quickly. He was curious what Sephiroth had meant by a wild ride, but did _not _want to find out first hand. Well, he did want to find out, but that was not rationality talking.

"Spoilsport," Sephiroth sighed. He ducked down to Vincent's throat again, licked playfully at the pulse, and then opened his mouth properly. Vincent had a split second to feel the sharp prick of fangs against his skin and think 'I shouldn't have agreed to this' before Sephiroth bit down. He pulled back almost at once and set his lips to the wounds.

Vincent gasped. It might have hurt initially, but something about the way Sephiroth was drinking turned what ought to have been a painful experience into one that was nothing but pleasure. The raw skin on his chest no longer burned under Sephiroth's weight. The bruises on his back from where he had fallen no longer existed. Nothing. All of it drowned under a rising tide of pleasure. It felt good. Better than good, as though Sephiroth was sucking on something lower and far more intimate than Vincent's neck.

"Nnh," he mumbled, trying to bring his hands up and give Sephiroth a half-hearted push. The angle they were bound at, however, made it impossible- all he did was strain something in his shoulder and arch his back in a futile attempt at lessening the pain. It brought his hips hard against Sephiroth's again. Sephiroth made a small noise that might have been of approval if Vincent had bothered listening and put one hand between them, as if to hold Vincent down.

When Sephiroth finally pulled away, Vincent was starting to feel dizzy. Shock, probably. From blood loss.

"Stay put," Sephiroth said, wiping blood from his lips.

"Mmhm," he murmured. He knew he ought to be worried, but it was much easier to lie there and let Sephiroth do whatever he wanted.

Sephiroth stood and dusted himself off, then picked up Vincent's cloak and draped it neatly over him. He folded the shirt and put it under Vincent's head, untied his wrists, and stepped back to admire his work.

"There. You should be able to get up and go back to Seventh Heaven in a few hours. Maybe not until morning. Be a good boy and don't tell anyone about me, hmm?"

Vincent didn't answer. Sephiroth chuckled, collected his gloves and coat, and was gone.


	2. Partial Surrender

Two posts in one day! Wow! Aren't you proud of me? There's a picture for this, linked in my profile. Just delete the (dot) and replace it with a .!

* * *

When Vincent came to, it was very late. He rolled onto his knees and put his shirt on slowly- he was freezing, but too dizzy to move quickly. He felt like he'd been hit by a bus.

_You were_, Chaos drawled. _A six foot three inch bus named Sephiroth. And you survived. Lucky you._

"How long was I out?"

_Four hours. It's after midnight. _

Vincent got unsteadily to his feet and headed for the door. He couldn't remember the last time he had honestly felt this bad. There had been times when he should have but something about what Hojo had done to him had kept him from feeling it. And there had been times when it had been close. But it had never been like this. There wasn't an external injury on him to account for it- only two small puncture wounds in his neck. That, and the way he couldn't get warm, a terrible feeling of weakness, and the fact that he was miserably thirsty. All classic signs of severe blood loss.

_Are you really going to try and get back to Seventh Heaven?_

"Where else can I go? I'm not spending the night on the floor of the church."

_You can hardly walk_.

"I have to."

_Let me_," Chaos sighed. _I can put enough umph into you to get us both back safely. I'll let go as soon as you're back in your room. Deal?_

"Deal," Vincent agreed, too tired to argue. He let go, falling back into his mind as Chaos surged forward, taking control but not taking shape.

"Sleep," he urged. "You need it."

Vincent mumbled a reply and did.

Chaos pulled Vincent's cloak tightly around his body and stepped out into the night. By now, the city was quiet- it was the middle of the week, and anyone with an ounce of sense would be asleep. There was no one to stop him as he headed for the bar.

-------------------------------------------

"_There_ you are," Tifa murmured when Chaos stepped into the bar. "I was starting to worry, Vincent."

"Got caught up in something," Chaos said simply. Tifa finished drying the glass in her hand and went down to the end of the bar to intercept Chaos when he tried to get to the stairs.

"Are you alright?"

"I-"

"Cloud's still acting strange, says he's feeling sick, and now you walk in here in the middle of the night, looking like death warmed over…is something wrong?"

"It's just a bug going around," Chaos said quickly. "I fell asleep watching the water at the church, which is why I'm late."

Tifa nodded faintly, apparently satisfied with the answer. She reached out and touched Chaos' forehead, then pulled back.

"No fever," she said finally. "But you're almost as cold as Cloud. You should get to bed."

"I plan on it." Chaos moved past her and was on the stairs before Tifa spoke again.

"Did…did Aerith have anything to say? Did she help him?"

"There is little she can do at this point, but she promises to do what she can. Cloud will be alright."

"And you?"

"I'll be fine. Cloud…he has it worse than I do."

"Okay. Thank you, Vincent."

"Any time."

--------------------------------------

Upstairs, Chaos collected Vincent's pajamas and went to the bathroom. Stripped, he examined the bruises on his back. Thankfully, they weren't shaped, so they could have been from anything. His chest needed to be cleaned and bandaged again- and that _hurt_, dammit- and the bite needed to be cleaned and covered. Satisfied that he was presentable, Chaos drank a couple of glasses of water to make up for the loss of fluids and went to bed.

"Hey," he whispered, prodding Vincent. "Wake up. You need to take over."

_Hmmm?_

"We're back. I cleaned us up and got us to bed. All you need to do is take over so I don't have to worry about it in the morning."

Vincent mumbled an affirmative and slipped past Chaos into his body again, settling into a comfortable position under the blankets with a sigh.

"Did Tifa catch us?" he asked.

_Yes. I told her that Aerith is doing what she can, that we were late because we fell asleep watching the water at the church, and that we have the same bug as Cloud- though not as badly- which is why we looked so terrible when we came in. She's concerned, but not as panicked as she was earlier. For now, I think she'll be happy with just caring for Cloud and possibly us._

"Thank you."

_Anything to save our skin._

"Even letting a vampire bite me."

_Yes. Even that._

"He mentioned feeding off me again."

_Like hell. Once was more than enough. If he tries it again, I'll forcefully take over and kill him._

"Can you?"

_The only thing I can't kill is you. Go to sleep._

---------------------------------------------

"I take back what I said," Vincent groaned, sitting up slowly. "_Now_ I feel like I've been hit by a bus. Or perhaps an airship."

_Not surprising. You did have quite a bit of blood drained last night. And you lay out on a wood floor for a few hours, getting thoroughly chilled in the process. Which reminds me…there's something in here._

"Meaning?" Vincent asked, too tired to be worried.

_I think you may have picked up a cold._

"Oh, that's just _perfect_. The last thing I need right now is a cold. Are you sure? I'm not feeling ill, just battered."

_Trust me. You picked _something_ up; it's just not showing yet._

"Nothing you can do about it, is there?"

_No_.

Muttering to himself, Vincent got up and went to shower. His chest was beginning to heal over, and the bite on his neck was healing nicely. The bruises…well, they were going to take awhile. That was normal. His bruises never healed at a decent rate.

Thoroughly scrubbed, he stepped out of the shower. Almost at once, he noted that the headache he'd attributed to blood loss and lack of sleep had not gone away with the shower, as he'd been expecting. It was still present and hurting.

_I told you._

"Don't remind me."

_Cloud ought to be safe today- I'm sure Tifa is keeping him home to take care of him. Since you'll both be in the house, you should take the time to rest. Life will be hard if you have to try and fend him off when you're not at your best._

"I hate it when you're right."

_I'm on a roll, aren't I?_

"Don't let it get to your head."

_No worries. I don't have one._

Vincent shook his head and rummaged in the vanity, looking for painkillers. When he found them- at the back of the drawer, naturally- he took two and headed downstairs. Sick or not, he wanted to verify what Chaos had told Tifa the night before.

---------------------------------------------

"Oh, Vincent. I didn't expect to see you up so early!"

"You know I rarely sleep in, Tifa," Vincent said, taking a banana from the basket on the counter and peeling it absently.

"Yes, but I thought you weren't feeling well. Cloud's still out."

"That doesn't keep me from waking- it just keeps me from wanting to get up."

Tifa laughed.

"True. So…how _are_ you feeling, anyway?"

"Functional. Warmer than last night." That was the constant in everything he remembered from the night before- cold.

"Good, good. Sit down, I'll have coffee ready in a minute."

"Thank you."

Tifa handed him a steaming mug and sat down across from Vincent, cupping her own mug in both hands.

"Did Aerith really say she can help?"

"She is unsure," Vincent said carefully. "But she promised to do what she can. In the very least, she can get information for us."

"It's not…dangerous, is it?"

"No. More of a nuisance than anything. And it is not contagious. One would have to go to great lengths to pick it up- you and the children are safe."

Tifa nodded faintly, sipping her coffee.

"You look worse than Cloud did last night. Are you sure you should be up and wandering around?"

Vincent winced. Of course a woman who was raising two children would know how to recognize signs of illness in people. She'd have to, to get around Denzel's faking.

"I have a cold," he admitted. "But I'm fine."

"Right. Not planning on going out today, were you?"

"Hmmm? No, not-why?"

"Because if you were, you should cancel your plans. You're staying here. Whatever is wrong with Cloud may not be a problem, like you said, but a cold is. The last thing I need is you getting worse, or giving it to the kids."

"Tifa, you-"

"Are the decision maker in this house."

_She's got you _whipped_,_ Chaos snickered.

You be quiet.

"Alright. I'll stay here."

"Good."

--------------------------------------------

The first chance he got, Vincent retreated upstairs to have a look at Cloud. The blonde was, as Tifa had put it, out. He was sprawled across his bed, face buried in his pillow, not moving.

_He'll sleep as late as he can. Vampires aren't nocturnal- not really anyway- but they like later times of day. Won't surprise me if he sleeps until this afternoon. _

"That will worry Tifa."

_Everything is going to worry her. How often is it that you or Cloud get sick? Hardly ever. And now you've both got something she doesn't understand, and you have a cold on top of it._

"Yes, but Cloud staying asleep all day is really going to bother her."

_Nothing we can do about it. Go hide in your room before she comes looking for you._

-----------------------------------------------

Vincent did just that, emerging only to get another cup of coffee, and managed to avoid detection until ten or so. Then Tifa came upstairs. He heard her go to Cloud first, then move quietly to his door.

"You can come in."

The door opened and Tifa leaned in around it.

"You heard me?"

"I've been waiting for you to come check on us since I left the table."

"You know me too well," Tifa chuckled.

"I watch you with the children."

"Mmhm. How are you feeling?"

_There's no safe answer. You're screwed._

"Fine."

"You're talking so softly I can hardly hear you, Vincent. That isn't fine."

"It's just a sore throat. Nothing serious."

Tifa didn't reply- she was already up and heading out the door. Vincent dared to hope that she was going downstairs to attend to some chore that would keep her away from him. No such luck. She was back in minutes, carrying a bag of throat lozenges.

"Here. They'll help."

"I'll manage just f-"

"My house, my rules."

Vincent took the bag with a quiet thank you. Tifa left.

_Somebody's cranky._

"Be quiet, or I'll force you out and _you_ can sit here and feel miserable."

--------------------------------------------

"Are you sure it's just a cold?"

_Yes. Why?_

"Last I checked, an upset stomach is not a symptom of the common cold."

_Don't ask me, I just know that there's a rhinovirus running around in here._

"I _am_ asking you."

"Zinc, in these."

Vincent jumped and nearly fell off the windowsill. Sephiroth was sitting on the bed, reading the back of the throat lozenge bag, looking like he'd been there for some time.

"What are you _doing_ here?" Vincent hissed, closing the window and jerking the curtains across it.

"Paying you a visit, of course. I began to wonder what had become of you when you weren't at the church this morning, waiting to see if the Cetra girl had any answers for you."

Vincent grabbed Cerberus and leveled it at Sephiroth.

"Get out of my room. Now."

"You know that won't do a thing to stop me. Put the gun down."

"You are _not_ biting me again."

"Not yet, anyway. I took quite a bit last night, so you wouldn't be fit for dinner even if you weren't sick. I suppose sleeping in the church gave the virus a leg up?"

"_Out_."

"You need lessons in civilized conversation."

"From you? I doubt it."

"Ouch. Someone's cranky this afternoon."

Vincent sidled towards the door, ready to yank it open and run if he had to. Sephiroth watched him for a moment, then sighed and lay back on the bed, completely ignoring the gun that was now pointed at a rather important region of his body.

"You know, most people appreciate a well-wishing visitor when they're sick," he commented.

"I am not most people."

"No, you're not. Most people wouldn't be talking rationally at this point.I _am_ dead, after all."

"I was too, for a time. Death makes no difference."

"It does when there's nothing you can do to me. Be reasonable. Put the gun down and have a seat. You look terrible."

"I can refuse to let you feed from me."

Sephiroth laughed at that. _Laughed_. Vincent scowled.

"You do that," he chuckled. "And then see if you can sleep at night, knowing that you turned me loose on a city of innocents. It's you or them, and you're so much sturdier than they are."

There was no arguing with that. Vincent lost all his fight. With a sigh, he put Cerberus on the dresser and sat down on the far corner of the bed.

"What did you say when you got here?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"I said it was the zinc in your cough drops."

"Zinc?"

"It has a bad habit of causing upset stomachs. Can have quite an impact on colds, so it's still used, but most people try to avoid it- the side effect is a common one."

"Why on earth do you know something like that?"

"It can react with Mako. I made a habit of knowing anything that could do that while I was alive. When I said sit down, I meant it. You're about to slide off the bed, Vincent. I'm not going to bite."

"Right."

"I've already told you why I won't. Besides, I just fed last night. I don't need blood every day, and certainly not twice in twenty-four hours, not when I had so much last night. Your pet demon didn't tell you that?"

"He isn't my pet," Vincent growled, scooting a bit further onto the bed. Sephiroth was right; he was in serious danger of sliding off the edge.

"You seem to have it tamed."

"We have…an agreement. Nothing more."

"Mmhm. And that's why you let it control you at times, and take its advice."

"Chaos is not an it."

"Oh, excuse me. You let _him_ control you. You let him take over your body and walk about. Yet you can't handle me."

"I have no hold on you."

"Mmm…I suppose. But it bothers you, doesn't it? That you can't do a thing about me except be my food source."

Vincent didn't answer. Sephiroth shrugged and sat up, tossing the bag of lozenges onto the dresser. It skidded and nearly knocked Cerberus down.

"Watch where you're throwing things," Vincent said irritably, pulling his leg under his body.

"And here I thought you'd want to get those as far away from you as possible," Sephiroth chuckled. He moved further onto the bed. Vincent watched him warily, but he didn't seem to be up to anything, so he let it go. The instant he looked away, Sephiroth reached out, grabbed his shoulder, and yanked him down onto his back. Naturally, Vincent thrashed and fought, but Sephiroth just smiled at him and waited for him to give up.

"What _now_?" he asked.

"Nothing, really. I just want you fit for consumption, and all this stress isn't helping. You need to relax and rest."

"You're a doctor as well as a homicidal maniac? Let go of me."

"No. You need rest, and I need a nap."

"I am _not_ sleeping with you," Vincent growled. He wondered if removing Sephiroth's arm with his claw would offer an opportunity to escape. It would probably heal with the same unnerving speed as the wound from the night before had, but would it be gone long enough for him to free himself?

"I never asked you to. Just sleep beside me."

"No."

"Be reasonable," Sephiroth said, rolling onto his side and giving Vincent a stern look, the kind that was usually reserved for misbehaving children and rebellious teenagers. "You're sick, and you're tired. That zinc has you feeling worse, you've got injuries that are healing, and you lost a considerable amount of blood to me last night. You _need_ sleep. If you don't get it, I have no doubt that Cloud will be up and about long before you're fit to follow him, and who knows what trouble he might get into."

"Tifa will-"

"Tifa doesn't know what he is becoming. Sleep."

Vincent would later swear that he could _feel_ darkness tugging at his consciousness, sleep beckoning to him invitingly. Suddenly he _wanted_ to sleep, even if he was beside Sephiroth. He wanted it more than he could believe.

"You're in my head again," he said muzzily. "Stoppit."

"I have to put you to sleep somehow. You won't like the other option."

"Anything but you in my head."

Sephiroth's faint smile turned into a wicked grin.

"Very well, then. But remember that you gave me permission."

"Mmhm."

Still holding Vincent down with one hand, Sephiroth reached out and undid Vincent's shirt, easing it gently off his arms and tossing it out of the way. Absently, Vincent noted that Sephiroth seemed to have a thing for throwing clothes. Working quickly, Sephiroth undid Vincent's belt, removed it, and paused, hovering over him, considering tying his hands. After a moment, he tossed the belt in the same general direction as Vincent's shirt and started on the ex-Turk's pants. Getting them off took some maneuvering to keep his hand on Vincent's shoulder while the other one wrestled the tight garment off.

"Such tight clothes for lounging about the house all day," he muttered, shrugging his coat off one arm at a time. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were waiting around for someone special."

"Not really," Vincent said dreamily.

"Uh-huh." Sephiroth made quick work of his boots and gloves, let go of Vincent, straddled him, and let go of his mind. Vincent returned to full awareness with a jolt, knowing exactly what he'd gone and gotten himself into.

"If you _ever_ do that again, you will _never_ feed from me without getting a fight," he hissed, resisting the urge to buck Sephiroth off.

"Ooooh, such a threat," Sephiroth laughed. He bent and kissed Vincent, forcing his mouth open almost at once and giving him very little time to breathe or fight it. Vincent focused on breathing for a minute or two, then wondered if kissing back would make any difference. In the very least, he decided, it would get those fangs away from his lips for a moment. Threading his flesh hand through Sephiroth's hair, he yanked the former General against him, putting his own tongue to good use. Sephiroth went stiff with surprise, then relaxed, letting Vincent take charge for the time being.

While Vincent was preoccupied with kissing and breathing- and it was starting to feel disturbingly good again- Sephiroth's hands began roaming south, tracing the scars that turned Vincent's skin into a patchwork. Under his hands they became unfairly sensitive places, and Vincent squirmed, whining ineffectually into Sephiroth's mouth.

"You like it," Sephiroth teased when they broke apart for air. Or, rather, so Vincent could get air and Sephiroth could wait for him to do so.

"Do _not_," Vincent snapped, and yanked him back down.

A few rounds of kissing later, Sephiroth's hands slipped further south, tracing a long set of scars Vincent had given himself when he was first getting used to his clawed hand. The scars started just above his knee and stretched all the way up his thigh. Halfway down them, Sephiroth let his hand slip off the scars and between Vincent's legs. Taken by surprise, Vincent tried to throw Sephiroth off him.

"You knew this was coming," Sephiroth purred, drawing senseless spirals on the unbroken skin of Vincent's inner thigh. "The moment I said there was another option."

"_Warn _me," Vincent complained. "You can't just-nnh!"

"But I _can_ 'just'. That's the beauty of power- I can do whatever I like without giving prior warning. It's a nice way to spend your death."

He fingered the band of Vincent's boxers, his nails just barely brushing the skin beneath, then tugged them down. He had to get off Vincent momentarily to get rid of the boxers completely, and took the time to take his own pants off. He wasn't wearing anything under them.

"Commando with _leather_?"

"Yes. Why?"

"You like pain, don't you?"

"Not in the slightest. I just like leather."

"Sadist."

"Mmm…call me something else. You turn such a nice color when you're angry."

"Bastard," Vincent spat.

"Just like that."

"Monster."

"A compliment, coming from you."

"Spoiled brat."

"Which makes you a cradle robber, doesn't it?"

Sephiroth's easy banter was distraction enough for him to prepare Vincent. A little more effort would be required to actually-

"Do you treat all your partners as if they were made of glass, or am I the exception?"

That was as good as an invitation, coming from Vincent. And it was all the encouragement Sephiroth needed.

------------------------------------------

Vincent woke to find that his headache was back with a vengeance. He groaned and rolled onto his side, inadvertently pressing his face into what felt like skin and muscle.

Remembering what he had let Sephiroth do, he recoiled with a startled squeak, one that died halfway and turned into a painful cough.

"There's medicine on the nightstand," Sephiroth mumbled, gesturing at the other side of the bed. "Tifa brought it in."

"_Tifa_?" Vincent sputtered.

"Yes. Don't get so worked up, all she saw was you passed out in bed, clothes on the floor. No me, none of my clothes, and no evidence. Take the medicine and go back to sleep. I am _not_ done with my nap."

Vincent weighed his options. A) Climb over Sephiroth and get the medicine. Go back to sleep. B) Climb over Sephiroth and get the medicine. Get his clothes and get out. C) and D) Get up, go around the bed, get the medicine, see A and B. E) Throw himself out the window and hope Sephiroth didn't anticipate it. He could handle getting caught naked outside if it meant getting away from the vampire in his bed.

"If you even _think_ about going anywhere, I'll pin you down before I go back to sleep. Ifrit's fire, you'd think I was asking you to jump off a cliff. Take the medicine before I feed it to you."

Option A, then. Movingly slowly, Vincent climbed over Sephiroth and knelt on the mattress level with the night stand. Tifa had left a glass of water, a couple more of the throat lozenges of doom, and a bottle of multi-symptom cold medicine. Ignoring the lozenges, he poured a dose of the medicine- why on earth were they always such outlandish, unappetizing colors?- and tossed it back. Fighting the urge to gag, he followed it up with the water and dropped back onto the bed with a groan.

"Uck," he muttered. Sephiroth rolled onto his side and watched him.

"I'd have thought you would do that much more gracefully."

"Too bad." Vincent burrowed back under the blankets. In spite of his initial observation that everything about this vampire mess was cold, it was quite warm under the blankets. Much warmer than one body could make it. A casual touch confirmed it: Sephiroth was warm as any living human, almost fever hot with sleep.

"I do produce body heat when I've fed enough," Sephiroth said drowsily, throwing an arm over Vincent. "No need to be surprised about it."

"Who said I was?"

"Stubborn, aren't you?"

"Keep making noise and I'm throwing you out of the room."

--------------------------------------

When he finally woke up for real, it was fully dark out and Sephiroth was gone.


	3. No progress

Hiya! Yes, I know I should be posting more of NJOotG, but this just jumped out and bit me first. What can I say? Besides, sexy vampire action is always a good thing! I'll have more for you soon!

* * *

The following morning, Vincent shuffled downstairs in search of breakfast, tired and congested but nowhere near as miserable as he had been the day before. Rest had replenished his blood and his unusual body was hard at work eradicating all traces of his cold.

"Morning, Mr. Valentine," Marlene chirped. She was an unapologetic morning person. Beside her, Denzel glowered at his cereal. He didn't like mornings any more than Cloud did.

"Good morning, Marlene, Denzel."

Denzel grunted a response. Vincent chuckled and accepted a cup of coffee from Tifa.

"He gets more like Cloud every day."

"I know. How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"Were you sick, Mr. Valentine?" Marlene asked.

"Mmhm."

"Are you feeling better now?"

"Mmhm."

"Want to walk to the bus stop with us?"

"Marlene, I'm sure Vincent is still-"

"I can take them, Tifa," Vincent said, seeing his chance to get out of the house. "It's no trouble."

"But-"

"You're out-voted."

"This is _not_ a democracy."

Marlene chose that moment to turn her best puppy eyes full on Tifa.

"_Please_?" she asked.

Tifa melted.

"Fine, if Vincent really wants to go. I'll stay here and do dishes."

"Will you, Mr. Valentine?"

"Of course."

Thus, Vincent strolled out the front door about half an hour later, with Marlene swinging on his flesh hand and Denzel shuffling at his side. Tifa waved, then went to wash dishes.

--------------------------------------------

After seeing both kids safely onto the bus and promising to pick them up as well, Vincent made for the church. Aerith was waiting for him, hands on hips.

"I thought you were going to be here yesterday."

"Something came up."

"Something?"

"A cold."

"Oh, no _wonder_ you sound stuffed up! Come here and let me fix that!"

Reluctantly, Vincent got close enough for Aerith to cup his face in her hands and hold him still for a moment. When she let go and backed up, he sneezed hard and found he could breathe again. It also felt like he'd been sunburned where her hands had touched him.

"What just-"

"Chaos," Vincent sighed, rubbing the tender skin. "You are Holy, and he is not."

"So you're allergic to me," Aerith giggled.

"You could say that."

She giggled some more, then settled down on the surface of the water, legs folded neatly under her. Vincent sat cross-legged on the floor of the church and waited to hear what she had to say.

"There's a lot of information out there on vampires. I can't say how much of it is fact, but most of it is certainly fiction. There is no known cure, though. That much I can tell you."

Vincent nodded. He'd been afraid of that.

"Have you found anything that might allow him to control his urges? The alternative is to contain him or kill him, and neither of those is really an option."

"It takes practice," Aerith sighed. "Practice, time, and a ready supply of blood. Uncontrollable bloodlust is triggered by hunger."

"So there is no way to get around the need for blood."

Aerith shook her head.

"No. You might try getting some from a hospital or a blood bank, or take Cloud out to hunt animals. I'd rather he didn't rampage around the city, feeding on innocent bystanders."

"I agree. There is, however, the small matter of my not being physically strong enough to fight him down if the situation calls for it."

"You aren't?"

"All I could do was lie still and let him do what he wanted."

Aerith looked worried,

"There has to be something you can do to subdue him. Couldn't Chaos-"

"Cloud's presence forces Chaos down. I can't even hear him when we're close to each other."

"Oh. I see. I'll….do some more research."

"I'll do what I can," Vincent said gently. "In the very least, I won't let him do anything he'll regret."

Aerith smiled faintly.

"Thank you."

-------------------------------------------------------

Remembering Cloud's reaction to the smell of garlic, Vincent picked up two bulbs before he returned to 7th Heaven. Tifa was busy with something in the kitchen and only waved at him when he passed her.

Upstairs, he checked the bite in the bathroom mirror. It had already healed over and there was nothing but a pair of faint pink dots to mark where it had been. Those would fade in another day or so.

_Assuming he doesn't come back for more._

Don't remind me.

_What? You've got to admit that, in the very least, he's good in bed._

He is not.

_Aww, come on! You were begging for him!_

He's the best I've ever had, if it makes you happy to hear it, but that isn't the point. He's a menace, he's back, and the only thing between him and the rest of the city is my neck!

_He offered to take from other places, you know. The groin might be fun._

We are _not_ having this conversation!

_Vincent, you'll have to make the best of this. That's the only thing you can do right now. Fight it and hate it from now 'til who _knows_ when, or sit back and enjoy the sex and the affection._

There is no affection.

_He desires you. He came to see you when you were sick. That's close enough to be called affection._

Chaos, he is a monster.

_There was a time when you called yourself the same thing._

If there is one thing I am not, it is a murdering sociopath.

_Did you ever think that there could be a reason for his return?_

Are you trying to convince me that this _isn't_ a disaster?

_Look at it from my standpoint. You're getting a few things you really need right now: a cause- namely protecting Tifa and the little ones from Cloud. A quest- figuring out how Sephiroth managed to resurrect himself this time. Pleasure- you liked being screwed into the mattress by someone large and strong enough to make you be submissive. It's healthy, Vincent, and I'm glad you have all of it. Sure, it could all go up in our face any minute, but it's good while it lasts._

I refuse to believe that you like this.

_I don't like the situation, but I like the effect it could have on you, if you let it. Now, calm down_

Vincent took a deep breath, went to his room, and started reviewing everything he knew about vampires.

-------------------------------------------

Someone knocked on the door. Vincent looked up.

"Yes?"

"Vincent?"

"Come in, Cloud."

Cloud opened the door just a little and slunk in the crack. After closing the door behind himself, he skirted the edge of the room to get as close to Vincent and the bed as possible without ever turning his back to the room.

"Can I help you with something?"

"I wanted to attack Tifa," Cloud whispered. "I wanted to bite her and make her bleed. And die, if that meant being able to get her blood. What do I do?"

"You come with me."

"Where?"

"Out to the edge of the city. You can hunt safely there, and I will make sure you don't endanger anyone."

-------------------------------------

Vincent perched on a heap of rubble, watching Cloud prowl the ruins below. He was having little luck catching the dog-sized scanvengers that populated the abandoned outskirts of the city. If they didn't vanish when they heard him comong, then they raced away before he was close enough to pounce.

Finally,Cloud dropped onto a rock and looked up at the sky, waiting for Vincent to come down. Vincent hopped from his lofty hiehgt and landed quietly at Cloud's side.

"You know more about hunting than I do. How am I supposed to do this?"

"Instinct."

"_What_ insitinct?"

"It is a part of the bloodline you have been joined with. As you develop, you will know instinctively how to catch your prey."

"That's great when I learn, but what about now?"

"For now, stay here. I'll catch something for you."

He moved quietly out into the dark ruins, pacing down silent streets. A long, lean shape flitted across his path. He changed direction and followed it into an old building. Golden eyes gleamed in the darkness. Vincent eyed the shapes that surrounded them. Tha largest two were to his left. He shifted, waiting to see if they would attack. They didn't.

He pounced.

A fewminutes later, he dropped the first of the two into Cloud's lap. It was knocked out but still very alive, breathing softly through its open mouth.

"You feed from the neck," Vincent said.

"It's still alive," Cloud protested.

"Exactly. According to Areith, you won't like dead blood. Drink."

Cloud hesitated, then lifted the limp body to his mouth. He stared at it, unsure, opened his mouth, and bit.

He missed. Coughing, he spat fur.

"Find the jugular _before_ you bite," Vincent suggested.

Cloud flushed and felt the neck, running his fingers through the fine fur until he found the strong pulse. He bita second time and was rewarded with a gush of blood, most of which made it into his mouth. Some of it wound up running down his chin and throat, staining his shirt.

Vincent watched silently, offering the second animal when Cloud was finished with the first.

-----------------------------------

Cloud returned home, dressed in clean clothes Vincent had insisted he bring. He still smelled of blood, but only to someone who had a good nose. Tifa wouldn't notice.

Vincent walked slowly back to the city proper, taking note of the other dens hidden in the ruins. He would be bringing Cloud out here again soon, and he planned on teaching him to hunt properly in the near future. It was all he could do.

_At least you're doing something._

I don't want to talk to you.

_Why not?_

You support this madness. Why would I want to talk?

_You prevented disaster tonight. Why can't you accept that and be civil?_

Vincent snorted and didn't answer.


	4. Education

A little late, yes, but I think it's worth it. We begin to analyze just what our dear General is here, and what he could be. 'stina, when you read this, I hope you'll bear with me. There's fun in the upcoming chapter, and some fun here, too.  


* * *

Vincent was woken later that night by coughing and a thud on his floor. He sat up, looking for the source of the noise, and found Sephiroth sitting on the floor under the window, coughing harshly.

"What'd you put that up for?" he wheezed, pointing at the garlic cloves Vincent had threaded on fishing line and hung over the window.

"To keep you out," Vincent growled, reaching for Cerberus.

"Nice try. It'll take more than that." Hand over his mouth, Sephiroth scooted away from the window and joined Vincent on the bed. Sniffling a little, he curled around him on the quilt like some big house cat.

"What do you want?"

"I came in for dinner…but you smell like blood, so now I want to hear about what you've been up to. Why do you smell like a slaughterhouse?"

"Cloud."

Sephiroth scowled.

"Has he attacked you again?"

"Hardly. I took him out to hunt tonight, since you failed to teach him anything of use before you wandered off and left him outside Junon."

"He's resourceful- he hardly needs _my_ help."

"I had to catch animals for him because he can't hunt on his own. I didn't even _bother_ telling him to go for the carteroid, he was so desperate to get the blood. Do you have _any_ idea what you've done?"

"I've made his life a living hell," Sephiroth murmured, sounding supremely pleased with himself. "Far from a fitting punishment for killing me three times, but it ought to keep me amused for some time, which is more than can be said about something more permanent, like death."

"Life is not a toy."

"It is for me."

Vincent's first response was to draw his hand back and slap Sephiroth, an instinctual action bred into his respect for life.

"There are many things I'll let you get away with," he growled, glaring into Sephiroth's surprised green eyes. "But that is not one of them. Do not make light of what you no longer have."

Sephiroth chuckled, wrapping his arms around Vincent's waist and nuzzling his side.

"How does Cloud hunt?" he asked, changing the subject. "He doesn't run yelling after his prey, does he? I think he's smarter than that."

He behaved, Vincent noted, like a child, his interest flitting from one thing to another as each ceased amusing him. How long would it be until he lost his interest in Vincent?

"He tries to stalk them. He has an idea of what he's supposed to be doing, just no idea how to do it properly. Trying to teach him when I'm not a predator is going to be difficult."

"He'll manage. Let him learn like I did."

"How _did_ you learn?"

"I failed until I was hungry enough to give in to instinct. Coddle him the way you do and he'll always be dependent on you."

"It's a small price to pay for living here."

"Why do you _want_ to live here?"

Vincent looked down at Sephiroth.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Are you really asking me that?"

"I am."

"You're stuck in here with _Cloud_, who is good for little more than the simplest tasks and probably only kept by Tifa because he's strong enough to protect her image as a dainty little lady. Then you have Tifa herself, a throwback from times when being able to throw your beloved across the cave was a desirable trait and carrying breasts of a size I wouldn't have believed natural if I hadn't seen them in Nibleheim, where you couldn't get implants if your life depended on it. And then there are the children. Loud, irritating, messy, and intrusive. They aren't even hers."

"That bothers you?" Vincent asked, rather amused by the look of disgust on Sephiroth's face.

"It's like living in the barracks!"

Ah. Of course. The prissy General was used to quiet private quarters where no one bothered him without first being allowed in.

"I spent thirty years sleeping in a box. I have no desire to live in one now that I am free."

Sephiroth snorted.

"I've been in and out of Mako tanks since birth, but you don't see me looking for a dark place to hide myself away in."

"Your perception of the world and mine are very different."

"Not as different as you think."

Vincent was about to respond with some example of _exactly_ how different they were when Sephiroth sneezed and rolled onto his back, a long, sinuous movement against Vincent's hips and legs. He smiled, baring long fangs. Apparently, he'd lost interest again.

"Where do you want the bite this time?"

"Does it matter?"

"It's your comfort, not mine. I eat no matter where you get bitten."

"My arm, then."

"Wrist or elbow?"

"Elbow."

Sephiroth rolled over again, onto all fours, and moved to sit with his back against the headboard.

"Sit here," he said, patting the spot between his knees. Vincent did. Sephiroth pulled him back so they were back-to-chest and reached for Vincent's left arm, drawing it out and back so he could reach the crook of the elbow. It pulled the joint almost to the limit.

"Does it have to be this position?"

"I like it this way."

Vincent sighed and forced himself to relax in Sephiroth's hold. Sephiroth shifted about a little, then bit.

The bite was far gentler than the last one, a delicate little nip that was just enough to break into the vein. Then Sephiroth set his lips to the punctures and sucked.

It felt better than before. Where there had been cold and fear before, Vincent found warmth and slight acceptance. He wasn't quite sure _where_ he'd found either, only that they made it hurt much less. It almost felt good, actually. The gentle suckling was reminiscent of what they'd gotten up to the day before.

"You're going to leave a hickey," Vincent complained.

Sephiroth chuckled darkly but didn't answer.

Sure enough, when Sephiroth pulled back, there was already a fresh, dark bruise blooming around the welling punctures. Vincent examined it, prodding the tender flesh.

"I didn't need this," he muttered.

"But you wanted it."

"No, I didn't. From now on, you are forbidden to leave a hickey."

"Now you're telling me how to feed? I think not."

"How happy do you think Cloud would be to find out you're up and about again? Do you want to be chased all over the planet again?"

"Are you threatening me?"

Vincent shrugged.

"If you want to call it that. You cease marking me, and I keep you a secret from Cloud."

Sephiroth scowled, then pounced, bowling Vincent over backwards on the bed. Vincent hit with a grunt and put his hands up to stop Sephiroth. Sephiroth rested most of his weight on Vincent's palms and relaxed.

"Get off," Vincent complained.

"Hmmm?"

"I said get off."

"No, I don't think I want to."

"I'm not your toy, Sephiroth. Get off me."

Sephiroth stopped supporting himself with his knees and slid down to lie across Vincent's legs and stomach. He looked up the line of Vincent's body, hands staying politely at his sides.

"You're wrong on that point," he murmured.

"What point?"

"You are my toy."

"I beg to differ."

"Oh, come now, Vincent. You do what I want when I want it. It doesn't matter what your reason is- all that matters is that I can do anything with or to you and you don't do anything to stop me." One hand came up and started slowly working the hem of Vincent's shirt up. "That makes you my toy. My doll. My puppet." He pushed himself up on one arm and began tracing abstract patterns on the exposed skin of Vincent's stomach.

"I am no one's _puppet_."

"You are. You just haven't realized it yet." Sephiroth bent and set his lips to a patch of skin just a little left of Vincent's navel. He nibbled, sucked, and worried at it. Beneath him, Vincent squirmed, careful of the sharp teeth and the strong hands, not sure if he should kick Sephiroth in the nearest available body part or moan softly and let the molestation continue.

"There," Sephiroth said after a few minutes. Vincent sat up to look at his stomach and found a second impressive hickey.

"You….you…you…" he sputtered.

"Me what?" Sephiroth asked lazily.

"_You_," Vincent growled, unable to come up with an insult that really suited the moment.

"You'll have to do better than _that_," Sephiroth chuckled, pulling himself further up on Vincent's legs and dipping his head to the skin just below the scrunched edge of Vincent's shirt. "Or I'll just keep marking you until you come up with something."

Vincent tried to come up with something, anything, that conveyed exactly how furious he was at that moment. Nothing was coming to him. Nothing at all.

-----------------------------------------

The ordeal ended with nearly a dozen marks all over Vincent's chest, spaced out between his throat and his hips. Vincent had finally gotten fed up and slapped a hand over Sephiroth's mouth.

"Someday there is going to be a disease named after you," he spat.

"Ouch."

Satisfied, Vincent sat up and pulled his shirt back on, careful of the tender spots. Sephiroth lay back on the bed, watching quietly.

"You're more interesting than you let on," he murmured.

"What?"

"You play strong and silent, but there's more to it than that. You're a good actor."

"Anyone can take acting classes," Vincent said dismissively.

"You took _acting _classes?"

"Some of us went to school when we were young."

Sephiroth scowled.

"I had a better education than you'll ever have," he growled.

"Oh yes, an _excellent_ education. Murder 101. Commanding armies for beginners. Baby's first bloodbath. Basic body counting." Vincent snorted. "_Any_ child would want to be taught such things."

"And what makes _your_ schooling any better than mine?" Sephiroth demanded.

Vincent shrugged, folding his legs underneath himself and tugging his hair into some semblance of order.

"The arts," he said simply.

"And you think _art_ makes it better?"

"I learned to see detail through three years of art classes. I learned to lie and fake behaviors in theater. I learned to make every word count in speech. Shop taught me to work with my hands. Dance made me graceful and taught me balance. You never had that."

"Art makes you soft."

"Art makes you stronger."

"What do you know?"

"Far more than you, apparently."

Sephiroth glared at Vincent from behind a curtain of his hair.

"What useful things do you know that I don't?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Because I'll go out into the rest of the house and drain one of the children if you don't tell me."

"I know how to dislocate many of the major joints in the human body. I know where to hit to drop my opponent with hardly any effort. I can calculate the trajectory for a bullet and make adjustments for weather and obstacles. I can adjust my attitude and demeanor to hide in any situation. Can _you_ do that?"

Sephiroth searched for a snappy response and failed.

"_And_ I learned to cope with the people around me."

"Fine," Sephiroth muttered. "You win."

"Good. Now get out."

"Why?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

"Yes."

"You and Cloud are keeping me up at all hours. I am baby-sitting tomorrow. If I'm not fully coherent by morning, you will be hearing about it."

"I'll stay, thanks."

"_Out_."

"I'll be quiet."

"I said out."

"Now you're keeping yourself up. Go to sleep, I won't bite again tonight."

Vincent thought about continuing the argument, then thought better of it and lay down, pulling the blankets back over himself. Sephiroth crawled up to join him, keeping blankets between them. He sighed and snuggled against Vincent's back.

Vincent tried to stay awake, but failed.


	5. Sittin' in a Tree

I baaaaack! There's a new poll up for y'all to look at and vote in, fanart- which you'd better look at, it's wonderful!- and an update to the profile page. In other news, I'm still accepting requests (as always) and want to tank all of you for getting me through last year.  


* * *

Sephiroth was gone when Vincent woke, just like before. The warm spot in the bed let him know that he hadn't been gone long. He was going to get them both into trouble if he kept this up.

It was a Saturday, Vincent's designated baby-sitting day. Once a week, Tifa went off to do her own thing and left the kids in Vincent's capable hands. Vincent could only hope that Sephiroth kept a low profile for the day- the last thing he wanted was to have to explain _that_ to the kids.

Cloud had left early on a delivery. Only the knowledge that he had fed the night before kept Vincent from following him and dragging him back to the house.

-----------------------------------

As was normal for a Saturday morning, there were no signs of life from upstairs until nearly nine o'clock. By that time, Vincent had pancake batter ready to go and he'd drunk enough coffee to offset the effects of blood-loss from Sephiroth's bite.

"Morning!" Marlene caroled, dancing into the kitchen with Denzel shuffling behind her. "Ooh! Pancakes!"

"Good morning," Vincent said pleasantly, spooning batter onto the griddle. Both children climbed onto stools at the counter and watched him cook.

"What are we doing today, Mr. Valentine?"

"I thought I'd let you choose."

"Let's go catch butterflies in the park!"

"That's for girls," Denzel muttered. "Let's play soccer instead."

"Why don't we make a day of it?" Vincent suggested, stepping in before they could start fighting. "We can catch bugs- including butterflies- play a little soccer, and take a lunch. Sound good?"

Pleased cheering was his cue to start packing lunches.

------------------------------------------

After two rounds of bug catching, a quick lesson on why you didn't poke stink-bugs with sticks, some energetic running after butterflies with a net while Marlene cheered Vincent on, a game of soccer involving half the kids in the park at the time, and lunch, Vincent was left alone for a little while. Marlene had found some friends in the playground and was happily jumping rope with them. Denzel and some of the older boys were playing soccer, watched over by a couple of parents who knew much more about the game than Vincent cared to. Picking a spot in the shade where he could see Marlene and hear Denzel, he relaxed against a tree trunk. It was a gorgeous summer day, hot and alive with laughter and giggling.

"Makes you wish you'd never been a part of ShinRa, doesn't it?"

Vincent jumped. Sephiroth grinned down at him from the branches of the tree where he was crouched.

"What _now_?" Vincent hissed.

"You didn't answer my question."

Vincent scowled and hopped up into the tree, settling on a wide branch out of Sephiroth's reach.

"No, it doesn't."

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow.

"Really? What makes you say that?"

"If I hadn't been a part of ShinRa, I would either be dead or an old man somewhere, not watching two children play in a park in a city I helped protect and save. If I hadn't been with ShinRa, I would not have the strength to continue to protect it."

"You have a strange outlook on life."

"This is starting to sound like our last conversation. I don't enjoy repeating myself, Sephiroth. There are things you cannot hope to understand without first living them."

"I can live through words alone if the one speaking them is good at it. Tell me what I don't understand."

Vincent snorted and retreated to a branch high out of Sephiroth's reach. It was too slender to support the vampire's weight, thus ensuring distance.

"Secondhand experience only breeds false security, Sephiroth. Nothing I tell you will do you any good."

Sephiroth moved higher in the branches, letting his hood fall back. Somewhere he had found clothes other than his usual all leather ensemble- with the hood of his coat up, he looked normal in faded jeans and battered combat boots. With the hood down, there was no mistaking him, even if he'd braided his hair and knotted it up at the base of his skull to make it easier to hide.

"What are you doing out here, Sephiroth?"

"I was bored and thought I'd come pester you into entertaining me."

"I have a job to do. I don't have time for your silly games."

"But we both have all the time in the world, Vincent. You and I are apart from this world, two immortal beings in a world of short-lived lower life-forms."

Vincent sighed and crouched low on his branch, then sprang and landed neatly in another tree. He watched Sephiroth scramble to a branch further out and follow him, landing with all the grace of a champion belly-flopper. He snickered.

"_What_?"

"Imitating me will do nothing for your tree-climbing ability. You aren't built for it."

"_Imitating_ you?"

"I saw that landing- this is not an environment you thrive in. It takes someone smaller, faster, and far more flexible than you are."

"We can't all be humanoid squirrels."

"I beg your pardon?"

"That's all it is. Squirrels do the same thing, and _they_ don't look like overgrown bats while they do it."

"I do not look like a bat."

"No? Have you ever looked at the shadow you cast? Looks awfully batty to me."

"I am _not _continuing this argument with you. It's utterly pointless."

"But _I_ want to keep arguing."

"That's too bad for you then, isn't it?"

Sephiroth scowled and scooted up a branch so he could grab at Vincent's dangling foot. He snagged Vincent's pant leg and yanked. Vincent squawked and fell off his branch, directly into Sephiroth's waiting arms. Sephiroth held him tightly and retreated to the crotch of the branch, leaning back against the trunk and settling Vincent in his lap. Vincent might have been comfortable if he had been with someone else.

"You just don't seem to understand that I always get what I want, Vincent."

"And _you_ don't seem to understand that I don't care," Vincent snapped, struggling to get free of the arms wrapped tightly around him. Sephiroth tightened his hold, pulling Vincent closer until he was fighting to breathe properly.

"Remember that I can kill you," he hissed softly. Vincent shivered.

"What will you gain from that?"

"Satisfaction."

Vincent took a deep, steady breath, then tipped his head back and looked up at Sephiroth with half-closed eyes.

"Which will be fleeting," he whispered huskily. "There is more satisfaction in keeping me alive and healthy."

Sephiroth cocked his head to the side, puzzling over the sudden change in Vincent's behavior. Vincent shifted in his hold, snuggling into a more comfortable position.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know."

"The fun is in the chase, Sephiroth. And a prize is all the better for the effort." He slid a hand under Sephiroth's coat, letting his fingers roam over the smooth skin there. Sephiroth shuddered and closed his eyes.

"You like to play games," he said.

"I do indeed."

"I can play them too."

"It does take two to play any game."

Sephiroth smiled and put Vincent on a branch to his right.

"Then I'll come to play again soon. Go watch your charges for now, and keep your window unlatched."

He hopped out of the tree and was gone. Vincent sighed and slipped off his branch. He was suddenly too tired to keep minding the children in such a large space and wanted them home.

-------------------------------------------

After making sure that Marlene was settled with a coloring book and telling Denzel that he was in charge for a little while, Vincent shuffled upstairs and collapsed on his bed with a sigh.

_May I ask what you were thinking?_

Mmm?

_You just _seduced_ him. Not very well, but you did it._

I'm speaking his language.

_Blatant sexuality isn't a language, you ninny, it's a target. You're giving him what he wants!_

Think about it, Chaos. If he gets comfortable with me, he may let his shields down and I may be able to find a way to get rid of him. That won't happen if I continue to fight with him. That aside, he's also more likely to treat me well when I work with him. I could do without more hickey-torture like last night, or our little tiff at the church.

_I don't like this at all_, Chaos groused,_ but fine. I trust you to keep from getting yourself killed. Try to remember that I can't help you, alright?_

Will do.

_And don't try to tell me that you don't enjoy the way he handles you._

Vincent didn't. He muttered a few words he'd learned from Cid, then settled back on his bed for a short nap.

------------------------------------

When he blinked awake, it was late afternoon, the sunlight light rich and gold through the curtains, and Sephiroth was asleep on the bed beside him.

The vampire didn't move when Vincent sat up and stared at him. His hair had come out of the knot and trailed in a long, fuzzy braid over his shoulder and onto the bed. It glowed in the muted light. He was well and truly asleep, completely relaxed. Curious, Vincent examined him, having never had such a chance before. Even he could appreciate the lines on such a fine male specimen, after all.

After a moment, he noticed something he hadn't expected. Sephiroth had his hands drawn up to his chest, one tucked under his head and the other against his face. The first two fingers of that hand were in his mouth. As Vincent watched, Sephiroth shifted in his sleep, mumbled something incoherent, and settled again, suckling gently at his fingers as if he were nursing.

An oral fixation. When Vincent thought about it, it made sense. Hojo had probably weaned Sephiroth as soon as he could, leaving him with an unconscious desire to mouth things whenever he got the chance. Fitting that he'd become a vampire, then.

Something about the position made Vincent warm to Sephiroth. Things would have been different if Hojo hadn't shot him. What had this magnificent man looked like as a child? Vincent was willing to bet he'd been beautiful, in an angelic way, as he looked like a full-fledged angel of death as an adult. Probably all knees and elbows as a teenager, too, he thought fondly. Wouldn't that have been a sight?

He settled back down, lying down carefully to avoid waking Sephiroth, and went back to sleep.

------------------------------------

Tifa woke him after sunset.

"Vincent?"

"Mmmg?"

"I'm home."

Vincent sat up fast, barely noting that Sephiroth was gone again, along with one of his pillows.

"What time is it?"

"Just after six. I'm sorry, I didn't even think that you'd still be tired from your cold."

"Are the children alright?"

Tifa laughed.

"Yes, they're fine. Cloud came back a little after four and found you asleep, but didn't want to wake you. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. I'm sorry….I don't know what I was thinking."

She patted his shoulder.

"It's alright. I've fallen asleep when it's just me and them home before. They're smart enough to know not to get up to anything. Denzel told me you put him in charge while you napped."

"I did."

"He was really pleased by that. Made him feel older, I guess. Do you want dinner? It's almost ready."

"I'll be there in a minute."

Tifa nodded and went back downstairs.

Vincent slid off the bed and stumbled to the dresser in search of his hair brush. He didn't need a mirror to be able to tell what a mess his hair was. While he brushed tangles out, he turned to face the rest of the room, watching the deep shadows.

"Chaos?"

_Mmhm?_

"Do you have any ideas? Any at all?"

_Ideas about what?"_

"I don't know if I can do this."

_Why not?_

"The more I see of him, the more I see what he could have been. I could have loved him, if things had been different. If I was younger, I could have spent my days chasing after him."

_I can't help you there. Your idea is the only one we have right now._

"But what do we do if I can't finish this?"

_We will hope that doesn't happen._

"But what if it _does_, Chaos?"

Chaos didn't answer.


	6. Caving

I liiiiiiivvvveee!!!! And I am here to present to you another chapter of sexy, vampiric goodness. And just after I posted harem fun, too. Aren't you a lucky bunch?

* * *

Sephiroth didn't make another appearance for nearly a week. Vincent relaxed back into life: help Cloud hunt, help around the house, watch the kids, talk about vampires with Chaos. It was almost normal again.

It was a Friday night when Sephiroth tumbled in the window. The house was quiet, though still early. Cloud and Tifa had taken the kids out to dinner and a play downtown and wouldn't be back for hours. Vincent was stretched out on the couch downstairs, watching a movie he'd loved as a teenager and was still fond of now, old as it was. He heard the thump, hit pause, and went upstairs.

Sephiroth was huddled on the floor under the window, shivering. As Vincent crossed the room, he jerked and vomited. Thick, sour blood splattered on the floor.

"What now?" Vincent asked, kneeling on the bed to stay out of the way.

"Go to hell," Sephiroth rasped. He shuddered and vomited again.

"I've never left."

Sephiroth didn't say anything, just swallowed hard and clutched at himself. Vincent surveyed the scene before him for a moment, then slipped off the bed and crouched beside Sephiroth. He eased his hands under him, careful of his claw, and picked him up. Judging by the flailing, Vincent suspected Sephiroth hadn't thought him strong enough to carry someone as large and heavy as Sephiroth was.

"Calm down," Vincent murmured, shifting Sephiroth to make him easier to hold. "I'm just moving you. And don't you dare throw up on me."

He carried his armful of cranky, sick vampire out into the hallway and into the bathroom, where he carefully set him down on the floor. As soon as he was free, Sephiroth pulled himself onto his knees and threw up into the nearest receptacle- the bathtub. Vincent sighed and rummaged in the vanity for a hair-tie. The only one he could find was a fuzzy pink and purple scrunchie, but he doubted it mattered at this point. He twisted Sephiroth's hair into a messy bunch and secured it with the scrunchie.

"What have you done now?" he asked quietly.

Sephiroth flipped him off. Vincent shook his head.

"Tell me when you can speak again or I'll throw you outside and you can enjoy being sick without shelter or care."

----------------------------------------

Sephiroth didn't stop retching and gagging for more than an hour. Vincent patted his shoulder occasionally, but went out to his room to get a book to read while he waited. It might have seemed callous to some, but Sephiroth didn't want comforting, and Vincent wasn't going to offer it.

Eventually, Sephiroth relaxed against the side of the tub, pale and still. Vincent leaned over him to turn the shower on and wash the thick blood away. To his surprise, Sephiroth started to strip, sliding his boots and jacket off, then fighting to get the tight leather pants peeled off his clammy, sweat-damp skin.

"What are you doing?"

No answer. Sephiroth jerked the scrunchie out of his hair and clambered into the tub, sitting tiredly under the spray. Vincent watched him. After a minute, Sephiroth turned to look at him.

"Going to join me?"

"I think not."

"I need to feed soon, and I won't be getting out of this tub under my own steam. Shower with me, Vincent. I'll tell you what I did while I was gone."

Vincent hesitated, but Sephiroth had a point, and he made _such_ a pretty picture there, soaking wet and exhausted under the cool spray. He sighed and turned the heat up a little, then pulled his shirt off, tossing it out of the way. His pants, boxers, and socks followed.

He settled in the tub behind Sephiroth, taking a dominant position because he could. On impulse, he dug his hand into the thick silver hair before him and played with it. It was heavy and slick in his hand, twining around his fingers and wrist as he touched it. Sephiroth moaned softly and leaned back into the touch, going further and further back until he was almost flat on his back with his head in Vincent's lap.

"Keep doing that," he breathed.

"Not until you explain yourself."

Sephiroth huffed, but didn't pull away from him.

"I went south," he muttered. "I fed on a few people I found walking alone- and don't you dare scold me, they're all still alive. The last one was an addict."

"Addict?"

"Yes. I don't know what to, but it was strong and he'd just taken some. I came back as fast as I could, but your damned garlic was the last straw."

Vincent frowned.

"Why come back just for that?"

"I don't know. It felt like the thing to do."

Sephiroth relaxed, apparently done talking for the moment.

"Keep playing with my hair," he urged.

"Why should I?" Vincent demanded, more concerned with trying to understand what would drive Sephiroth to come back up to Midgar when he was sick than with petting the spoiled vampire in his lap.

"Because it will make me feel better."

"You're dead. You don't need to feel anything."

"I know that I feel like shit now and that being pet will help fix that. Pet me."

Vincent snorted. It was such a bizarre request. But it was a good excuse to continue playing with all that lovely hair. He flipped the whole mass of it over his leg and began drawing his fingers through it, starting at the scalp and combing down as far as he could reach. Sephiroth closed his eyes blissfully.

"So you're saying whatever drug it was your prey was taking made you ill?"

"Apparently, yes."

"And you're sure it wasn't just you suffering from over-indulgence?"

Sephiroth glared at him, looking ready to respond, but began to cough instead. He rolled onto his side, hacking, then retched loudly. A glob of half-congealed blood landed on Vincent's leg with a splat.

Vincent shuddered. It had the feel of jello, something blood should never feel like.

"_Augh_! What _is_ that?"

"Blood," Sephiroth said hoarsely, and gagged. "And mucous, to protect me from whatever the drug was."

Vincent flicked the junk off his leg and watched it slide slowly towards the drain, dissolving as it went until it was a pinkish blob of stuff the consistency of glue that vanished down the drain.

"Help me sit up. I can hardly breathe."

"You don't _need_ to breathe," Vincent muttered, but pushed Sephiroth back into a sitting position anyway. Sephiroth took a couple of careful breaths, then coughed up several more lumps of junk. One slid down Vincent's foot, making him squirm. There were no words for just how _nasty_ that was.

"It becomes habit, after doing it for thirty years. Part of you still panics when there is suddenly no air coming in."

"Habit or not, that is _disgusting_."

"It's a natural defense." Sephiroth leaned into Vincent's chest with a sigh. "I have no control over it."

"You could start by watching what you eat."

"I couldn't just pack you into a suitcase and take you with me, now could I?"

"You didn't have to leave in the first place."

"There is much I want to see that I couldn't when I was alive. This is the only chance I have." Sephiroth tipped his head back to look up at Vincent. "You could always come with me."

"And hide in the shadows while you satisfy childhood urges? No."

"We could find somewhere remote……find a cave to develop, or build a little house. I could come back every night."

Vincent stared into those eerily beautiful green eyes, utterly shocked. Had Sephiroth honestly just asked him to run away with him? To leave all the good things he'd worked for and live as a kept man, a walking meal for a dead warrior?

"There are things I need you can't give me, Sephiroth."

"Like _what_?" Sephiroth demanded.

"Children, for one. I won't have any of my own, so Marlene and Denzel are very important to me. And solitary or not, I need social interaction."

"I'll find children for you," Sephiroth said shortly. "There are many without parents who would be glad of it. And you could go into the nearest settlement."

"I need _freedom_, Sephiroth."

"I never said I'd force you to stay with me."

"It was implied. The answer is no."

"You have to think about it first. Truly think about it."

"But-"

"Say you'll do it."

"Sephi-"

"Say it!"

Vincent sighed. Really, it was like dealing with an eight year-old who was nearly seven feet tall.

"Very well. I will consider it and have an answer for you when you ask next, provided you give me a decent amount of time."

"Good."

They sat under the shower for awhile, then Sephiroth sighed and rolled over, hiding his face in Vincent's lap. Vincent stiffened.

"No," he said, grabbing Sephiroth's shoulders and rolling him back over.

"No what?"

"No sex."

"But we're all…….wet."

"And you're ill."

"It's only food poisoning. I'll survive."

"That's beside the point. You were vomiting blood less than twenty minutes ago."

"It wasn't_ my _blood."

"That isn't the_ point._"

"Then what is?"

"You're too weak and I'm too worri- I'm not taking advantage of that."

Sephiroth blinked slowly.

"You were going to say worried," he said softly. "You're worried about me."

"A slip of the tongue."

He smiled lazily, a contented expression that said he'd just gotten something he'd been wanting for a long time.

"You feel you have to be protective of me," he sing-songed, grinning. "You liiiiike me. You're going to staaaayyyy with meeee."

Apparently, losing so much blood- even if it _wasn't_ his- had made Sephiroth a little loopy. Vincent doubted he would ever see the famed General in such a state ever again and made sure to fix the moment in his mind: Sephiroth, utterly naked and stretched out as far as the tub would allow, soaking wet, grinning like an idiot and giggling.

"You need to feed," he said, not wanting to think what would happen if Sephiroth got it into his head to get up and go do things.

"Feed?"

"Yes, feed. You've lost everything you've had recently." If he remembered Chaos' lecture correctly, Sephiroth could run on a bellyful of blood for 48 hours, longer if he had to. Losing all that at once, and expending quite a bit of energy to do so, could be devastating. "Can you get your teeth into me?"

Sephiroth blinked up at him, glassy-eyed. That was an obvious no. Vincent sighed.

"Stay there. I'll…..get it started."

"Hmmmm?"

Vincent ignored the questioning mumbled, focusing instead on trying to figure out where would be best to cut himself. Not the wrist- the slightest slip could kill him and he had his lap full of naked man. That was hardly conducive to steady hands. Not the elbow, either, it was too odd an angle and too delicate a series of tendons to toy with. That left his neck or his thigh. He didn't want to do his neck, since he couldn't see it, but he'd have to hit the femoral artery or vein to let Sephiroth feed from his thigh, and he could bleed out in minutes from there.

But it was the only real choice.

"Stay put. I'll be right back."

"Okay."

He climbed out of the tub and padded, dripping and naked, back to his bedroom.

"Chaos?"

_Do I even _want_ to know?_

"Can you heal me without being able to speak to me?"

_Can I what?_

"If I were to cut into my thigh and puncture one of the vessels in the femoral sheath, could you force it to heal without being able to speak to me?"

_I think so, but why- you're going to _cut_ yourself to _feed_ him?_

"He's utterly out of his mind right now. There's no telling what he might do if I don't fix the problem. This isn't a simple case of him killing someone if I let him go without feeding from me; this is more like him doing something because he doesn't see why he shouldn't, like run naked into downtown or something similar."

_Am I to understand that you left a naked, _willing_ man to come here and talk to _me_?_

"Can you do it?"

_Test it when you go back. If I can heal a small cut, I can heal a large one. I'll even restrict blood flow to the leg you choose, to avoid waste._

"Thank you."

_Mmm. Just don't dig yourself too deep._


	7. Caring

Hey! I'm back with vampire goodness!  


* * *

Vincent returned to the bathroom, leaning over Sephiroth to turn the shower off. He coaxed Sephiroth into a sitting position, then slid back into the tub, legs outstretched. With Sephiroth watching, he ran the tip of his claw over his shin. A thin line of blood bloomed in its wake. Vincent waited a moment, then wiped the blood away. The skin beneath was unbroken.

"It works, then," he said quietly.

"I thought you were going to feed me," Sephiroth complained.

"I am. Just wait a moment."

He felt down the line of his lip, feeling for a pulse. He found it, prodding until he located what felt like a promising spot, and poked the tip of his claw at it. The sharp metal bit deep into his flesh without a problem. Blood welled around it, beginning to trickle down the inside of Vincent's thigh as he drew the claw to the side, making a small slit for blood to flow from.

"Here. Drink," he said quietly.

Sephiroth knelt, sniffing at the offering, then lay down on his stomach and licked. He smiled.

"This is arterial," he murmured.

"I know."

He put his lips to the wound and sucked. Vincent inhaled sharply, just once, and forced himself to relax. Once he settled into the action, it began to feel good again. _Very_ good.

"You weren't kidding," he groaned, grabbing at the edge of the tub to keep from grabbing Sephiroth's hair. "It _does_ feel good."

Sephiroth hummed softly, kneading at Vincent's thigh while he fed like a kitten. Vincent moaned. Never again. He was never, _ever_ letting Sephiroth feed from his thigh again. It was too close to his groin for it to be doable. There was no way he could stay focused with that silver head so close to him and doing such unfair things with his tongue. Once, he wouldn't have believed that he was going to _enjoy_ having a tongue pushed into a cut in his skin, but now it felt sinfully good.

The domineering part of him suggested breaking off the feeding session and having his way with Sephiroth right there. The rest of him responded with the reminder that this was about keeping a ravening predator from wreaking havoc in the city, not about his sex life.

---------------------------------

By the time Sephiroth was finished, Vincent was almost as blissed-out as he was. He settled down, resting his head on Vincent's legs, and closed his eyes. Vincent watched the cut heal over, absently stroking Sephiroth's hair. If he hadn't been getting cold as the heat from the shower faded, he would have been almost content to stay put. Given the current situation, however, what with the goose bumps on his arms, the dull pain in his back from sitting at a weird angle, and the dozing vampire between his legs, he decided it was time to get up and move.

He slid out from under Sephiroth and dried himself off, pulling his clothes back on. Then he picked Sephiroth out of the tub. He was heavier after his meal, and entirely limp, making him harder to handle, but Vincent managed to get him dried off before carrying him to bed.

Sephiroth mumbled groggily, but didn't fight when Vincent tucked him into bed. With that out of the way, Vincent started cleaning up. The blood and mucous was half dried already, and he wanted to remove it before it stained.

By the time the room was clean, Sephiroth was sound asleep, fingers in his mouth again. Vincent put his cleaning things away, took a quick shower, and crawled into bed beside him. He was still cool to the touch, since keeping the body running was more important than feigning humanity. Vincent sighed and snuggled up to him, stroking his hair, which had dried into the usual softness, and down to his face. As he traced the contours of his cheeks, Sephiroth mumbled softly, mouth opening, and Vincent's fingers dipped in. His mouth closed almost at once, his own hand withdrawing as he sucked on the new offering. Vincent tried to extract his fingers and got a cut from sharp fangs for his trouble. At least the position wasn't too awkward.

--------------------------------------

Vincent woke later, when the sound of Cloud herding the children up the stairs was loud enough to catch his attention. He lay still, feeling the lukewarm bulk of Sephiroth's body against him. His fingers were no longer in Sephiroth's mouth, thankfully, and the cut on them had already healed over.

Being awake reminded Vincent that he was hungry. His evening had been disrupted by Sephiroth's arrival and he hadn't had the chance to eat dinner. He distinctly remembered that there were take-out leftovers in the fridge. That sounded good right now.

Too focused to bother with dressing, he pulled on the heavy terry-cloth robe Tifa had given him last Christmas and tied the belt securely, pulled the covers up over Sephiroth, and padded out into the hallway.

Just as he'd remembered, there was orange chicken and rice in the fridge. He took it out, along with a bottle of apple juice, then turned to get a bowl.

"Since when do you have a boyfriend?"

Vincent jumped. Tifa was sitting at the counter behind him, sipping a cup of tea. He'd completely missed her in his single-minded desire to get food.

"I-"

"If you wanted time alone with him, you could have said something. I would have had Cloud and the kids out of here the same night."

Vincent blushed.

"It's…it's not been long," he murmured. "This is very new for us."

"How'd you meet?"

"By chance. I was out late and he was at the diner I stopped in. We…..started talking."

Tifa mistook Vincent's hesitation as nothing more than embarrassment and grinned.

"That's so sweet! Did you two plan on him staying tonight, or was it spur of the moment?"

"I'm afraid it isn't as romantic as you think, Tifa. He isn't well and came here seeking only comfort."

"It's still sweet. Is he going to be alright?"

"Yes. It was just something he ate. I….I tell him to be more careful, but he'll take a bite out of anything, even if it bites back. How was the play?"

"Pretty good, considering it was geared towards kids. I enjoyed it. Cloud didn't seem to mind either, which was a plus."

"Any man would sit through a child's play if he had you with him."

As usual, a good dose of flattery worked wonders. Tifa blushed and promptly forgot that she was supposed to be grilling Vincent on his love life.

------------------------------------------

Vincent ate, bid Tifa good night, and slipped back upstairs. Sephiroth was right where he had left him, a little warmer than before, which Vincent took as a good sign. He crawled under the blankets and fell asleep.

------------------------------------------

Sephiroth's sleepy movements woke Vincent to a room full of early morning sunlight. Vincent rolled onto his back and looked over at his bedmate. Sephiroth was sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. When he noticed Vincent looking at him, he turned to face him.

"What happened last night?" he asked groggily.

"What do you remember?"

"A question isn't an answer."

"If you tell me what you remember, I can fill in the blanks for you."

Sephiroth frowned but turned completely around, folding his legs up under himself.

"I know I was sick," he said. "I know I talked you into getting into the shower with me. We talked, and you left. Then I remember blood in my mouth, and I woke up here."

Vincent nodded.

"The blood loss made you a little….loopy. I cut into an artery to allow you to feed, then carried you to bed when you'd had your fill."

"You _cut_ into an _artery_?"

"Yes. The femoral."

"And you're _alive_?"

"Chaos can still heal me, even if we cannot communicate. As soon as you were done, he closed the wound to keep me from bleeding to death."

Sephiroth stared at Vincent, confusion and wonder mixing on his face.

"You did that for me?"

"Given the circumstances, it seemed like the easiest and safest place to cut."

"You put your life on the line to _feed_ me?"

"Yes, I supposed I did."

Sephiroth smiled then, and fell back onto Vincent's legs.

"Will you come live with me, Vincent?" he asked. "Will you be mine and mine alone for all time?"

"You haven't given me enough time, and that was part of the deal," Vincent said quickly, startled by the way Sephiroth had phrased the question.

"It's been hours!"

"I was asleep for most of it. Wait longer."

Sephiroth pouted but slid off the bed and reached for his clothes, which Vincent had folded and left by the side of the bed.

"Fine, then. You think about it some more. I'm going out."

"Keep your fangs to yourself."

Sephiroth said nothing until he had one leg out the window. Then he turned back and grinned widely, baring his fangs at Vincent.

"They're all yours," he chuckled, and was gone.

Vincent shivered. What really worried him was that it sounded as though Sephiroth really meant that.

--------------------------------------

After breakfast and some playful teasing from Tifa, Vincent left the house and meandered in the general direction of the church, watching for Cloud. The blonde was nowhere to be seen. Reassured, Vincent picked up his pace and didn't slow down until he was inside the church.

"Welcome back," Aerith murmured.

"Have you learned anything else?" Vincent asked hopefully. "Anything to help him?"

She nodded.

"Sort of. Vampires are supposed to be vulnerable to Holy Water. If the water from here burns Cloud, then he may be too far gone for any saving. If it doesn't, we have more time to work with."

Vincent snorted.

"Are you suggesting I bring him here and push him into the pool?"

Aerith giggled.

"Only if you either bring a lifejacket along, or make sure he's wearing his floaties first."

Vincent stared at her.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Cloud can't swim. At all. Not even doggy paddle."

"_Floaties_?"

"Yes. Big ones- he does weigh quite a bit for someone so small."

"You're _kidding_."

"Not about Mr. I Fail at Doggy Paddle. There's a reason he avoids pools, you know. He knows he'll make a fool of himself, flailing around in the shallow end."


	8. Covering

I present the latest installment of your favorite fangy friends, complete with little-girl cuteness and some much-needed but misdirected violence.

* * *

Cloud was up and about when Vincent returned to 7th Heaven, obediently beating egg whites for Tifa, who was busy baking. Marlene was playing with dough scraps at the kitchen island. Judging by the smell of lemon in the air, he had a lemon meringue pie to look forward to.

"When did your friend leave, Vincent?" Tifa asked, stirring pie filling at the stove.

"Hmm?"

"Your boyfriend. I didn't see him go, but there was no one upstairs when I was closing windows."

Cloud choked.

"Boyfriend?" he asked.

Vincent nodded quietly.

"He was rather uncomfortable with coming downstairs when he hadn't been invited by you, so he left through my bedroom window."

"Oh, you tell him he's welcome here any time."

"I'll let him know."

"_Boyfriend_?" Cloud repeated.

"Yes, Cloud."

"You're gay?"

Vincent turned to look at Cloud, who was staring at him with an utterly dumbfounded expression.

"No, I'm not."

"But-"

"There is middle ground, you know."

"Yes, but-"

"Do you have a problem with it?"

"No, I-"

"Good. Then nothing more needs to be said."

Cloud spluttered indignantly.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" he managed.

"Why would I have? My personal life is private, whenever I can keep it that way."

"Vincent, I'm not trying to-"

"Cloud, did it occur to you that this is why I didn't mention him? I dislike playing twenty questions at the best of times, and playing it with any part of my personal life, particularly my love life, gets old very quickly."

"He didn't mean to sound harsh," Tifa said gently. "I think he's just surprised, is all. After all, we all know about Lucrecia."

"One of many women I was infatuated with," Vincent lied. She was actually one of a select few.

"I guess I just wasn't expecting it," Cloud said awkwardly. "With you being a Turk and all…"

"You think Turks can't swing whichever way they like?"

"I heard they used to discriminate."

"They did. But they didn't bar you from entering. Besides, if they did, do you think Tseng would be boss Turk now?"

"_Tseng_?"

"Mmhm. Didn't you know?"

"I thought he-"

"Was interested in Aerith, yes. Have you ever heard of going straight for someone? Aerith was that someone for Tseng. The only woman he's ever been interested in." Inwardly, Vincent gloated. He'd managed to turn the conversation away from himself and in a direction that would have Cloud questioning for ages. He turned to go, and was stopped by a hand on his cloak. When he looked down, he found Marlene looking up at him.

"Hello, Marlene."

"Here." She held a piece of pie dough up to him. Vincent accepted it and nibbled at the edge. "Mr. Valentine, what's a boyfriend?"

Tifa giggled. Cloud groaned.

"It's a…why don't we go sit down, and I'll explain, hmm?"

Marlene nodded and headed for the living room. Vincent turned to look at Tifa and Cloud, who were both trying to be busy and failing rather spectacularly. Tifa looked up at him and winked .Oh, God, they weren't going to save him. He scowled and followed after Marlene.

The moment Vincent sat down on the couch, Marlene crawled into his lap and snuggled against him.

"What's a boyfriend?"

Where to start?

"You know how many of your friends live with their mother and father, and they all have the same last name?"

"Yeah."

"Before they can have the same last name, they have to get married. Usually, before two people get married, they date. That means that they spend lots of time together. They go out for meals and movies, they hold hands, and they give each other gifts. When they are doing this, the man is called the woman's boyfriend."

"But you're not a lady."

Vincent blushed.

"No, I'm…not."

"Then how can you have a boyfriend?"

"Sometimes, Marlene, men like other men, or women like other women. In a relationship, the man is always called a boyfriend, so while I am not a girl, I have a boyfriend, because we are…dating, and….yes."

Marlene considered this for a minute, feeding Vincent another piece of pie dough. Vincent ate it gratefully, glad for the distraction. Why was he the one explaining dating to Marlene when he was neither her guardian nor her father?

"Does that mean you and your boyfriend are going to get married?"

He inhaled so quickly that a bit of dough went down the wrong way. Coughing and sputtering, he removed Marlene and focused on correcting his breathing.

Marlene was still looking expectantly up at him when he sat back up, all wide-eyed and eager.

"If you have a baby, can I be an aunt? Please?"

Vincent could hear Tifa and Cloud laughing in the kitchen. He wanted to crawl under a rock and die. No sleeping for thirty years this time, he was going whole hog. "Marlene, I'm a boy. I can't have a baby."

"But you can adopt, like Tifa and Cloud did."

"I…I don't know if we'll be together that long."

"But you said having a boyfriend comes before having a husband. Doesn't that mean that you and your boyfriend are going to get married? And then I can wear a pretty dress and…can I carry the rings? Please? Tori got to carry them for her big brother's wedding."

"Marlene…it doesn't always work that way."

"Why not?"

"Because…sometimes, two people realize they aren't right for each other, and they stop dating so they don't…hurt each other anymore."

He received a teary look.

"But…if you _do_ get married?" she asked hopefully. Vincent smiled faintly.

"Then you will be the prettiest ring-bearer ever."

Marlene grinned and hugged him tightly around his neck, giggling madly.

"I'll be the best one ever." She paused. "Mr. Valentine, what's your boyfriend's name?"

_Seth! Call him Seth!_

Can you be any more obvious?

_Do you have a better idea?_

"His name is Seth."

-------------------------------------------

That night, later than Vincent really wanted to be up, Vincent found himself waiting to see if Cloud could actually catch something this time.

"I still don't understand how you do it," Cloud grumbled, shuffling around a heap of rubble. "I can't get my hands on them."

Vincent sighed and got up, dusting himself off.

"To start with, you walk too heavily. There is such a thing as walking quietly, you know."

"Excuse me," he snapped. "I don't have any experience in sneaking my _boyfriend_ into the house without telling someone."

Vincent bristled. He wasn't sure what part of that really insulted him more: implying that he was a sneak, or the boyfriend shot.

"Perhaps if being a foot soldier required anything remotely resembling finesse you wouldn't be having problems," he countered.

"I did more than you ever did."

"Oh? It seems to me that you simply bumbled your way through one mistake after another."

"At least I didn't hide for thirty years."

"I didn't skip from one woman to another as soon as it was convenient, only to go running back to the first one when the second one died. Pretty cruel, wouldn't you say?"

"Don't you _dare_ tell me how to live my life!"

"But you can tell me how to live mine?"

"If you had _any_ idea what my life has been like, you would _never_-"

"Pain? Suffering? Agony? Loss? Months on Hojo's operating table? You didn't have the love of your life helping cut out parts of you that were never meant to be handled."

At a momentary loss, Cloud swung at Vincent. He caught him off-guard, and Vincent reeled, his hand going to his jaw.

"Juvenile," he murmured, working his jaw experimentally. "I should have seen that one coming."

"You aren't better than me," Cloud growled. "I don't keep all my nasty little secrets hidden from people."

"Oh? But you're keeping a very big nasty secret from the woman you love. Isn't that worse? No, that would make me better than you, wouldn't it?" Maybe it was the stress that was making him confrontational. Maybe it was because he was getting a chance to get back at Cloud for everything he had ever done.

"I don't want to hurt her!"

"Do you think keeping her in the dark is better? You're only fooling yourself."

Cloud made an angry noise and swung at Vincent again. Vincent caught the fist in his claw, held it, and spun, sending Cloud flying into a heap of rubble. Cloud picked himself up and ran at Vincent, teeth bared. His fangs were fully extended.

"At least I'm not a _freak_," he hissed, swiping at Vincent.

"Don't you _dare_ bring that up," Vincent growled, slapping Cloud's hand away.

"I can do whatever I want to. You can't stop me."

"Watch me."

Cloud snarled and bit at Vincent, his fangs just grazing Vincent's flesh hand. Vincent yelped. It was a very different thing to feel those fangs when it was all about violence.

"Cloud, stop fighting like an animal."

"What if I want to fight like an animal? Are you going to stop me? Oh, wait…you _can't_. You're too weak."

Vincent snarled and dug his claw into Cloud's shoulder, feeling the metal sink into flesh and bone. Cloud howled in pain. Then he did something Vincent wasn't expecting. He moved closer to Vincent, right in his face, and, moving faster than he had any right to, sank his teeth into Vincent's neck, close to his shoulder. He bit down, nose pressed against Vincent's throat, and worried at the flesh, growling deep in his throat.

Vincent shrieked. He hadn't meant to, but the bite hurt more than he thought it should have. As soon as he could collect himself, he yanked his claw free of Cloud's shoulder, ready to get away from him, and brought his knee up into Cloud's groin. As expected, Cloud squeaked and let go, crumpling to the dirt at Vincent's feet.

"You're letting the vampire get the best of you," Vincent said coldly, clamping his hand over the bite. Blood was flowing freely down onto his chest. Cloud had nearly taken a piece of Vincent with him. "Control yourself."

Cloud blinked tearily up at him.

"You're a disgrace. All that talk, and you can't even control your urges."

Cloud cringed. Apparently the shock and pain of being kneed in the crotch had helped him come to his senses.

"Are you done being stupid?"

He nodded. Vincent sighed and offered his claw to help Cloud up. Cloud took it and let Vincent pull him to his feet.

"Are you alright?"

The bite was burning horribly, and the burning was spreading down into his chest. Vincent nodded.

"Just a flesh wound. Now let's go back. You'll be fine without feeding for tonight."


	9. Admitting It

This is up way too soon for you people, but please enjoy the continued suffering of our favorite gunslinger and his fanged boyfriend.  


* * *

By the time they reached 7th Heaven, Vincent was stumbling and Cloud's shoulder had finally stopped bleeding. Cloud didn't ask why Vincent was so unsteady; he assumed it was from blood loss. In reality, Vincent wasn't sure what it was, only that it wasn't that. He didn't say anything.

-----------------------------------

Tifa threw a fit when they shuffled into the entry.

"What _happened_?" she hissed, hurrying over to look at them. The entry light was off; she flipped it on as she came, flooding the hall with bright light. Both Cloud and Vincent reeled. Cloud closed his eyes and waited for them to adjust. Vincent grabbed at the wall and tried not to collapse.

"Um…." Cloud fumbled for an answer. "A fight."

"_Where_?"

"Out in the ruins."

"What were you-Cloud, your _shoulder_!"

"It'll be okay."

"There's blood _everywhere_!"

"Yeah, but-"

Vincent shifted uncomfortably. The sudden shock of the light had turned his dizzy, burning, all over nasty feeling into something sharper and definitely worse. He put his claw on his stomach, using the other hand to brace against the wall.

"What did you fight with?"

"Don't you mean who?"

"Something with claws did this, Cloud, there's nothing else that leaves a wound like this one." Tifa prodded the mess Vincent had made of Cloud's shoulder. Cloud hissed. "I hope it wasn't poisonous."

"Really, Teef, it's fine, just-ow!"

"Cloud, your shoulder looks like raw hamburger. If you'd just- _Vincent_!"

The mention of raw hamburger was more than Vincent could take. He was cold, the side of his neck was a raw mess of blood and flesh, he didn't feel well, he'd been practically blinded, and now Tifa was talking about his turning a human shoulder into something resembling ground meat. He threw up, thus drawing Tifa's attention to him.

Tifa saw Vincent being sick first, but the bloody mess Cloud had made of his neck caught her eye almost immediately after. She hurried to him, avoiding the vomit on the floor.

"What happened?"she asked, putting a hesitant hand on Vincent's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I-I-I don't know," Vincent coughed. His head felt too heavy for his neck to support. He grabbed at Tifa, nicking her side with his claws. "It just-_glck!_"

"Cloud, help me, he's too heavy for me to hold up."

Cloud hesitated, looking at Vincent shivering in Tifa's arms.

"_Cloud_! Come here!"

"Um…Teef, I don't think I should."

"_What_?"

"I'm the one who did that to him, so…yeah. It's probably better if I don't."

"You did _what_?"

Cloud shifted unhappily.

"There's a lot I need to tell you, but…Vincent first, alright? I really tore up his neck."

"Fine, but get over here before I drop him!"

He scuttled over and helped Tifa get Vincent into a chair in the kitchen, then backed off a couple of steps and watched.

"Cloud, how did you do this?" Tifa asked, examining the wound. It shifted with Vincent's convulsive swallowing, gleaming wetly in the light.

"With my….er…teeth."

"With your _teeth_?"

"That's part of what I need to explain."

"Oh, you'll be doing plenty of that. Go get the big first aid kit from my bathroom. It's under the sink."

Grateful to have something to do, Cloud ran to get it. Tifa stroked Vincent's hair gently.

"We'll get you fixed up, Vincent, alright? You'll be okay."

_She's right, you know._

What's happening, Chaos? Why am I sick?

_Cloud can't control his instincts. When he bit you like that, he also transferred the virus over to you. I'm killing it before it can get established. Last thing you need is to be a vampire on top of everything else, and it might send your boyfriend on a furious rampage._

That's causing this?

_The wonders of the human immune system. I've convinced it that it needs to destroy every trace of the virus in here, and pronto. And I'm juicing it up, to speed up the process. You'll probably develop a fever in the next hour or so._

Thank you.

_Can't have you getting killed, now can I? But next time a vampire wants to fight with you, get away from it!_

I've learned my lesson.

_I should certainly hope so. Cloud will be back soon, but I'll warn you before he gets here: this is going to be nasty and it's going to take awhile. At least twenty four hours, maybe more. Alright?_

Vincent accepted this, then felt Chaos abruptly vanish when Cloud came back in with the box. He'd also had the foresight to bring the bathroom trashcan, which Vincent was intensely grateful for.

"Cloud, get me a bowl of water and a washcloth, okay? Warm- here, Vincent, use this- make it warm."

"I think you should try doing something about whatever's making him throw up first," Cloud pointed out, digging a mixing bowl out of a cabinet and running water in the sink, waiting for it to heat up. "That can't be good."

"Nothing I can do to stop it," Tifa countered, unbuckling Vincent's cloak and peeling it off him. One shoulder was soaked through with blood and sticking to his shirt."But this needs to be cleaned, and I can do that now. And then I'll do your shoulder. After that, maybe his stomach will have settled down."

-----------------------------------

Vincent's stomach hadn't settled down by then. Tifa had cleaned, disinfected, and bandaged his neck, all the while scolding Cloud for chewing him up so badly. Then Vincent huddled in his chair, hunched over the trash can, while Tifa treated Cloud's shoulder, trying to focus on Cloud's yelling instead of the rolling, twisting acrobatics it felt like his stomach was doing. When Tifa returned to him, he'd been reduced to dry heaves.

"Your turn again," Tifa said gently. She stroked his hair. "Feeling any better?"

Vincent retched.

"Guess not. I'm going to give you something to drink, alright? You need it, after losing all of that."

Vincent nodded weakly, accepting the glass Tifa pushed into his hand. He sniffed at it.

"Water, with lemon juice, salt, and sugar. Homemade rehydration solution. Drink."

He sipped carefully at it. He hurt all over, deep in his bones and much sharper in his throat, head, and stomach, and just wanted it to be over.

While he drank, Tifa fussed over him, fiddling with his hair, checking the bandage, and finally kissing his forehead. When she did this, she paused, frowned, then did it again. She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead.

"Cloud?"

"Mmm?"

"Come here and tell me if Vincent is as hot as I think he is."

Cloud obediently shuffled over and put his hand to Vincent's skin.

"Yeah, that's…Vincent, why aren't you reacting to it? You're burning up."

Vincent blinked owlishly at him.

"I've been distracted," he said hoarsely. "Very distracted."

Tifa sighed unhappily and took the mostly empty glass from Vincent's hand.

"I can't imagine what's causing this," she admitted. "But it's serious."

"It will be gone in a day or so."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'll have gotten rid of it in a day or so."

"Vincent, even a body like yours can't recover from a fever like this one in a day. You're very sick, and you'll probably be sick for days."

He shook his head. Chaos knew what he was talking about, after all, and if he said a day or so, then that was how long he had.

Tifa eyed him. Then comprehension dawned in her eyes.

"You know what the problem is."

"Yes."

"And?"

Vincent hesitated. His stomach was twisting and rolling again, and he wasn't sure about opening his mouth.

"_Vincent_."

"The virus Cloud carries," he said thickly. "Chaos is helping to destroy it before it can take hold of my body. It's making me very…..ill."

"Virus?"

"Yes. It's…..Cloud. Explain."

"Why do I have to?"

Vincent made a sick noise and huddled up again, clutching at his stomach. This would be so much easier if it didn't hurt, but it did- the nausea was accompanied by increasingly nasty pains in his lower abdomen, not quite cramps but just as painful.

"Well, Cloud?" Tifa asked icily, kneading Vincent's back in an attempt to comfort him. "What's this about a virus?"

Cloud hesitated, then sighed.

"On my way back from Junon, I….got bitten by a…um…vampire, in my sleep, and it transmitted the virus to me. When I attacked Vincent tonight, I….guess I gave it to him, somehow."

"Vampire?" Tifa repeated.

"Yes."

"Cloud, if you're going to come up with wild stories, at least make them somewhat believable."

"Fangs," Vincent managed. Cloud looked confused for a moment, then figured out what Vincent was telling him and bared his fangs for Tifa to see. He still had traces of Vincent's blood in his mouth and he hadn't fed, keeping his fangs fully extended, roughly an inch below his upper teeth. They would shorten as he matured and gained control, but until then, they were overlarge and dangerous.

Tifa stared.

"I can tell you more later," Cloud said quietly. "But Vincent-"

"I'll just go to bed," Vincent cut in. He stood shakily, grabbing at the back of the chair for support. "I can sleep it off."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded, moving slowly towards the doorway.

"I am. Talk to Tifa."

-----------------------------------

Tifa and Cloud stood silently for a few minutes, listening to Vincent shuffling across the living room, stumbling up the stairs, and finally closing his bedroom door. Then Cloud turned to Tifa.

"We should sit down," he said quietly. "This is going to take awhile."


	10. Caught

I have a good excuse for the lack of updates on...on everything, really: SCHOOL. I have returned to college and am working on resettling. Until that happens...updates will happen when they happen.  


* * *

Vincent stripped clumsily and crawled into bed, pulling every available blanket within reach over himself.

_You handled that well._

Handled what? The vomiting, the pain, or the argument going on while Tifa had her fingers buried in my neck?

_All of it. Most people can't even hope to converse when they're sporadically throwing up _and_ running a high fever._

Thank you, I suppose.

_You're welcome. Now, sleep. It'll help. I'll keep you from dreaming._

--------------------------------

He woke sometime later with his stomach trying to climb out of his mouth. Operating mostly on autopilot, he started to crawl out of bed, but was stopped by a big hand pushing him over the trashcan from the corner by his desk. Only after he'd stopped retching and heaving did he realize that neither Cloud nor Tifa had hands that large.

He looked up into acid Mako eyes and thick silver hair.

"What have you done to yourself now?" Sephiroth asked, petting his clammy face. "Every time I turn around, you need me again."

"I don't need you," Vincent protested weakly. Sephiroth's hands were warm and surprisingly gentle.

"Of course you do. You would have- you smell like Cloud."

Vincent groaned, partly because he knew Sephiroth was going to throw a hissy fit and partly because it felt like his stomach wasn't finished with him yet.

"Did he do this?"

Sephiroth curled around him, examining his body. He lingered on the bandages at Vincent's neck for a moment, then removed them. He sniffed at the wound, licked it, and growled quietly, a dark rumbling noise from deep in his chest.

"He bit you," he spat.

"Yes, but-"

"He _bit_ you."

"Sephiroth."

"That ungrateful little brat could have turned you. With a wound like this, he could have _killed_ you."

"It was an accident."

"_Accident_? He attacked and damaged something of mine. I came here expecting affection. Now all I get is damaged goods."

Vincent made an insulted noise.

"He's learning," he said. "We both said things we shouldn't have."

"I don't _want_ you turned!" Sephiroth paused. "Why isn't it taking effect? You should have the smell on you already."

Vincent gulped.

"Chaos is forcing my body to reject it."

"To _reject _it?"

"Yes. He didn't- _ggh_. Trashcan. Now."

Sephiroth ignored him and kept talking.

"It's not possible. There isn't anything that can cleanse the virus once it's been introduced to a human body. Even with all your alterations, you're still human."

Vincent whimpered. He couldn't reach from where he was sitting, and he didn't want to move enough to actually get the trashcan from where Sephiroth had put it because he knew he'd throw up if he did.

"There is no way for you to avoid the change. It simply can't happen. Unless Cloud is somehow-" Vincent swatted his shoulder. "What? I'm-oh." He shoved the trashcan back at Vincent and watched while he heaved into it. "I don't understand why you're sick."

Vincent moaned. Being sick was one thing. Being sick and hurting was another. And not only was he sick and hurting, he was stuck with an inconsiderate moron on the bed beside him.

Sephiroth was quiet while Vincent threw up. He just sat there for a minute or two, watching, then moved to cradle Vincent against his chest. Vincent pressed back against him, grateful for the warmth and support.

It took awhile before Vincent was calm enough to do more than just huddle in the cage of Sephiroth's long limbs, shivering and gulping in an attempt to control his stomach. When it was over, Sephiroth let go slowly, moving the trashcan off the bed to leave more room for the pair of them.

"Now you can explain this," he said. "Why are you sick?"

Vincent shifted to lean against Sephiroth's leg.

"Chaos is forcing it out of me. He's convinced my body that it's a threat that needs to be destroyed immediately and is feeding his strength into it to speed up the process."

"But-"

"I may be a human being physically, Sephiroth, but I have a very powerful demon living in my body as well, and that isn't something you factored into your assumptions."

"It-"

"_He_ is a friend to me. A friend, a teacher, and a guardian. If you _ever_ want anything more than grudging acceptance from me, you'll learn to acknowledge him as a person."

"He could have found a better way. You're a wreck."

"It was this or risk it taking me."

Sephiroth grunted and licked at Vincent's neck again. Vincent mumbled and pushed his head away.

"Don't do that. It hurts."

"I'm helping."

"I doubt it."

"Why do you think my bites heal so quickly? There are several things in my saliva that help heal wounds."

"Alright, just….be gentle."

"Mmh." He pushed Vincent down onto his side and settled in front of him, arms around his waist, face against his neck. He started to lick at it, slowly and quietly, his hands fisting and relaxing against Vincent's back in odd imitation of a cat's kneading.

It was almost relaxing, after a while. The licking was steady, and the pain from it was slowly fading. Vincent was fairly sure he would have fallen asleep if he hadn't been feeling so sick.

When Sephiroth finally stopped licking, he pulled away and re-wrapped the bandages, then sat up, pulled Vincent into his lap, and cuddled him, mouthing the curve of his ear.

"There. It will heal much faster, and with little scarring."

"Thank you."

"Don't bother. I have to keep you in good condition or I don't get fed."

"I'm not a toy, you know."

Sephiroth snorted and nipped the top of Vincent's ear.

"I know that. I'm not stupid." His mouth wandered, from Vincent's ear down to his jaw. "I even have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?"

"Yes. But you have to do something for me, first."

Sephiroth's stomach growled. Vincent sighed.

"You can't feed tonight. Or tomorrow. Not when I'm weak already."

"That's not what I want." He blushed faintly. "I didn't feed again after you cut yourself for me. I didn't have time."

"Then what do you want?"

"You have to spend a day with me. An entire day."

It seemed a small request. Vincent nodded. Sephiroth smiled, nipping at his jaw. His stomach growled again.

"I can give you a little," Vincent offered. "If it will help."

"It would. But I want you to heal quickly. Losing more blood isn't going to help."

Vincent cut quickly across the pads of his index and middle fingers with his claw, then offered them to Sephiroth.

"I'll recover. You forget that Chaos helps me heal faster."

Sephiroth licked the welling blood away eagerly.

"Make yourself comfortable first. So you can sleep."

"Why do you care if I sleep?"

"More sleep means more healing, which means the day you're going to spend with me comes sooner. Lie down."

Vincent crawled back under his blankets, lying carefully on his side to avoid putting pressure on his stomach. When he'd stopped shifting, Sephiroth joined him, mirroring his position so that he was facing Vincent. Vincent offered his fingers. Sephiroth took them into his mouth, making a few small noises while he worked his fangs and tongue around them, then settled down with a sigh, nursing at the slender cuts.

For a minute or two, the gentle sucking burned. Then it faded. Vincent's eyes fluttered closed.

-----------------------------------------

Vincent woke alone-no surprise there- drenched with sweat and miserably hot. He kicked his blankets off and dragged himself off the bed, staggering for the bathroom.

He met Marlene in the hallway.

"You should be in bed, Mr. Valentine," she told him. "Tifa said you're really sick."

"I know."

"Why aren't you wearing anything?"

Vincent looked down. She was right. He hadn't bothered to put any clothes on after getting his bloody ones off last night, and putting something on when he crawled out of bed hadn't even occurred to him. He would have blushed if he hadn't already been quite flushed with his fever, and quickly covered himself.

"Because I wasn't paying attention. Would you….go downstairs, please?"

Marlene nodded and continued down the hallway, dragging a toy chocobo along by the tail. Vincent scuttled into the bathroom and shut the door. Tifa was going to kill him. She had a policy about nudity where the kids were concerned.

_Relax. I think you're allowed._

Nothing will save me from her if she finds out, Chaos. Full frontal nudity is enough to get me put on dishwashing duty for the rest of the decade. At _least_.

_You're still sick. With a fever like the one you're running, being a little forgetful is forgivable._

It's an easy out.

_But a reasonable one. Why are you out of bed?_

I'm hot, I'm sweaty, and I feel disgusting. I'm going to take a shower.

_Take a bath instead. I don't advise staying upright for too long. You don't have the strength for it right now._

If you say so.

----------------------------------------------

Tifa tracked Vincent down half an hour later. He was still in the bath, soaking in blissfully cool water.

"Feel any better?" she asked, leaning in the door.

Vincent jerked, surprised, and grabbed a washcloth to cover himself with. Tifa giggled.

"It's alright; I'm not looking. How are you feeling?"

"Sick."

"You look it."

Vincent smiled tiredly.

"Thank you."

"I just finished explaining to Marlene why she doesn't- and I quote- have a funny dangly thing between her legs like you do."

"I-"

"Next time, you get to explain."

He blinked up at Tifa, surprised that he wasn't getting scolded. Tifa ran a tight house, after all.

"It was bound to happen sometime."

"It didn't have to be me."

"Why?" She took a couple of steps into the bathroom and leaned against the sink. "Is there something unusual about you?"

"No, but-"

"A piercing?"

"I'm trying to be serious."

"You don't need to be. Right now, you have more valid excuses than should be possible. Just get better, alright?"

Vincent nodded.

"Did Cloud-"

"He told me everything he knows. I wish you'd told me sooner, but I'm glad you've been taking such good care of him. I'm sure it's a lot to be dealing with. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Tifa turned back to the door. "Don't stay in there too long. And feel better."

Once the door was closed, Vincent sighed and sank deeper into his bath. It helped quite a bit, with his headache as well as his fever. It was a luxury he hadn't indulged in recently.

"As if _you _would have anything pierced."

Water splashed onto the floor with Vincent's startled jerk. Sephiroth snorted.

"Jumpy, aren't you?"

"What are you _doing_ here?"

"Come to check up on you. What else?"

"How did you get in here?"

Sephiroth smiled and put his hand through the wall he was leaning against.

"Physical barriers don't stop me."

Vincent sighed and slumped in the tub, running his hand through his hair.

"Do you _want_ to get caught? Tifa knows about Cloud now. He had to tell her after we got in last night- there was no explaining away my neck or how sick I was. She's going to start wondering about things."

"Not a problem when I can walk through walls." He crouched beside the tub and kissed Vincent's forehead. "You're burning up. How long have you had this fever?"

"Since last night."

Sephiroth muttered something Vincent didn't quite catch and kissed him again, on the lips this time, being very gentle. Vincent hesitated, then kissed him back, reaching up to slide his hand around the back of Sephiroth's neck and pull him closer. The kiss was slow and delicate, nothing like the fierce, bruising kisses Sephiroth usually employed. Vincent liked these. These were the kind of kisses you shared with a lover.

At some point, Sephiroth wriggled out of his boots, jeans, and shirt, then joined Vincent in the bath, lying on top of him and kissing busily. Vincent hissed softly and wrapped his legs around Sephiroth's, pulling him closer.

Encouraged, Sephiroth started biting at Vincent's ear, jaw, and the undamaged side of his neck, nipping quickly before moving on. Under him, Vincent whimpered and squirmed, forcing himself into a position that put Sephiroth's head at his chest instead of his face. Sephiroth made a pleased noise and kept up his nipping.

The door opened.

"Vincent, there's water seeping out from under the door, what are you- _oh_. Hello there."

Vincent braced for the screaming and the violence he knew was coming, then realized that there was none, only that Sephiroth had stopped biting him and was looking up at Tifa with a faintly guilty expression.

"Hi," he said softly. His voice had lifted a couple of notes, becoming one Vincent didn't quite recognize.

"How did you get in here?"

"The bedroom window."

"You _really_ need to stop doing that."

"I-"

"I'm Tifa Lockheart. You are?"

"Seth," Vincent said quickly. "If you're going to have a friendly chat with her, can you do it when we aren't naked in a bathtub?"

"I'm not going anywhere when there's a lady present." Sephiroth wriggled playfully. "This way, we're both covered."

Tifa giggled.

"Why don't you come downstairs in a few minutes, Seth? I'd like to have a word with you."

"Of course."

As soon as Tifa was gone, Vincent pulled himself out from under Sephiroth and stared at him.

"What did you do?"

"Hmm?"

"She didn't care what you looked like!"

"Because she saw something else."

"You got into her head, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

"Tell me what she saw, Sephiroth. _Now_."

"It would be easier if I showed you. Permission to get into your head?"

Vincent sighed. "Granted."

Almost immediately, his view of Sephiroth changed. The long silver hair turned auburn and kinky, complimenting skin that was no more tan then before. His eyes had gone darker green and the slit pupils were gone, replaced by normal round ones and hiding behind frameless glasses. The lines of his face softened. Sephiroth's body was much more slender, effeminate, the sort of body quiet, scholarly men were stereotyped with.

"Where did you get this look?"

Sephiroth shrugged, and the shape fell away.

"I thought it would be one you might be willing to be seen in public with. The sort of person who fit your personal preferences for a partner. Did I get it wrong?"

Vincent opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. The Seth person was unfairly attractive, and that was the sort of thing that had once been his first choice as far as appearances went. Now, though….he knew about the lean, hard muscle packed beneath Sephiroth's pale, unmarked skin. He knew how good big hands with smooth, flexible calluses felt when they slid over his body, and how having sex with someone who could pick him up and throw him was an experience not to be missed.

"No….I do like it. But you look more like your mother than I would have thought possible."

"That wasn't deliberate. I try to keep the change closer to my natural shape to make room for errors or loss of concentration." He reached for Vincent. "Shall we continue?"

"You're expected downstairs," Vincent murmured, shaking his head. "Don't disappoint Tifa. And I don't think I have much more of that in me anyway."

"You're still sick, aren't you?"

"Very."

"I assumed it was getting better, since you are out of bed and not throwing up anymore."

"I don't have anything to throw up. Go on, dry off and have a word with her like she wants. I'm just going to lie here and try to muster the strength to get back to bed."

Sephiroth climbed out of the tub and reached for the nearest towel. Vincent closed his eyes, expecting him to dry off, dress, and leave. He was rather startled when the towel dropped onto his head.

"You first," Sephiroth said, reaching to pull the plug that drained the tub.

"Someone is _waiting_ for you."

"Someone who assumes I'm a loving, caring boyfriend with a bad habit of crawling in through your bedroom window. If I didn't deal with your first, then my cover would be pointless."

Vincent sighed and started to towel his hair dry, but gave up fairly quickly. He was just too tired to bother with it.

Sephiroth made an irritated noise and snatched the towel up. He proceeded to give Vincent the most thorough toweling he'd ever received. He got a few good gropes in as well, but Vincent couldn't deny him that.

Sephiroth wrapped a second towel around his waist, bundled Vincent up in his, and carried him back to the bedroom, where he tucked him in, kissed his forehead, and vanished with a quick "just sleep".

Even though he wanted to stay awake and wait to see if Sephiroth would get into trouble or not, Vincent found his eyes closing in minutes.


	11. Recovering

So here's the first piece I was able to salvage from my old computer, and there ought to be more on the way. Sorry it's taken so long, folks!

* * *

The next time Vincent woke, Sephiroth was settled in the worn-out old armchair Vincent kept in the corner, flipping through one of Vincent's books on gun care. He looked oddly at home, which Vincent didn't find as bothersome as he felt he ought to.

Vincent groggily assessed his condition. He was back to feeling cold, and he could feel sweat dried on his skin. He'd be nauseous if there was anything his stomach could complain about, his throat hurt, and his head ached horribly.

Sephiroth looked up from the book, saw that Vincent was watching him, and got up.

"Feeling any better?" he asked softly, coming over to feel Vincent's forehead.

"Define 'better'," Vincent grunted.

"At least functional."

"All systems are running," he sighed. "Aside from that, no, I don't feel better."

"You aren't vomiting."

"I don't have anything to bring up, and I'm just lucky I don't have dry heaves like I did last night."

Sephiroth winced.

"Do you need anything?"

Vincent considered this. He could, of course, use the question as a way to get Sephiroth to leave, but that felt rude after the way Sephiroth had been treating him since the night before.

"A cuddle buddy. And a detailed recount of what happened when you went downstairs to talk to Tifa."

Sephiroth snorted but left the chair, putting the book down in the seat, and climbed onto the end of the bed. He looked Vincent over for a moment, then crawled slowly up to him. In almost any other situation Vincent would have pounced on him and done things that you don't mention in polite company to him, but he was too miserable to do more than absently appreciate the view. Sephiroth settled on his side beside Vincent.

"Very little happened," he murmured.

"I doubt that." Vincent lay back down and pressed against Sephiroth's chest. He was warm and comfortingly solid, even more so when he put an arm over Vincent's waist and pulled him closer.

"Why would you doubt that?"

"Nothing is ever little with you."

"She invited me to have a cup of tea with her. I had no choice but to accept. Then she quizzed me on everything I ought to know about you and everything I could possibly tell her about our relationship- I had to get creative with that. Then she just started chattering, and I used the excuse that I wanted to keep an eye on you to get away."

"What did you tell her about…us?"

Sephiroth shrugged, something Vincent felt rather than saw. "I told her that we're into some of the darker scenes, which she had the sense not to ask about, but she did as if we had a safeword. I said yes."

Vincent groaned.

"She's going to think I'm into…bondage or something," he complained bitterly. "My reputation is going to take a serious hit for that."

"But you are into it."

"Since _when_?"

"You seemed to like it when I used your belt to restrain you at the church."

"I did _not_!"

"I think you did."

Vincent jerked his elbow back into Sephiroth's belly and was rewarded with a soft grunt of surprise in his ear.

"That isn't fair. I can't do anything to you."

"That's the idea."

Sephiroth heaved a frustrated sigh and pressed his face into the curve of Vincent's neck.

"When you've recovered, we're going out."

"Yes, you mentioned that."

"As soon as you're better."

"Mmmhm."

"I mean it."

"I know."

Vincent was just starting to drift off when Tifa knocked on the door. He jumped, and Sephiroth's hold on him tightened just a little.

"Come in," Vincent called.

Tifa was carrying a small tray when she entered, one of the ones she used to ferry drinks around the bar on busy nights. She gave Sephiroth a pleased look as she set it on the nightstand.

"I thought you could use something to eat."

Vincent groaned. Just the thought made his stomach hurt.

"I'm sure you don't want to, but you haven't eaten since dinner last night, and you hardly ate anything then. You need to keep something down."

"I see two bowls of soup," Sephiroth murmured, sitting up to examine the tray.

"One of them is for you."

"That's very kind, but-"

"You've been here all morning. You've got to be getting hungry."

"Yes, but-"

"No buts. I take care of the people in my house."

"Thank you, but-"

"And I brought up something for your fever, Vincent, and some crackers. Marlene sent this-" Tifa held up a stuffed moogle in an eye-smarting shade of purple. "-and says that it will help. This should help settle your stomach, if it starts acting up again, and there's ginger ale here too. Flat for you, normal for Seth."

"You're too kind," Sephiroth muttered.

Tifa kissed Sephiroth's cheek- missing his little shudder by pure luck- and leaned over him to give Vincent a quick little peck on the forehead.

"You should take the fever reducer," she commented, straightening.

"I know," Vincent admitted. "But I don't want to."

"Do it."

She was gone as quickly as she had arrived.

"How do you _stand_ living with her?" Sephiroth hissed, picking up the nearest bowl. "Look at this. It's got garlic in it." He sniffled. "A lot of garlic. How do you propose I get rid of it without her finding out, hmm? Or would you rather that I eat it and wind up sick again?"

"I don't care what you do with it," Vincent grumbled. "Just don't whine about it."

"I'm not _whining_. I'm _complaining_. Children whine."

"You are a child," Vincent grouched. He sat up slowly and looked at the tray. "Hand me the stomach stuff and the moogle.

"You want the _moogle_?"

"You may not have noticed, but you're a mass of bone and fairly hard muscle. You don't make a good pillow, and I can't drag a full-sized pillow over and still be comfortable with you holding me. Just give them to me."

Sephiroth obediently handed over the toy and the bottle, then leaned back on his elbows and watched Vincent toss back a capful of the medicine. Vincent choked on it, but swallowed hard a couple of times and pulled a face.

"It tasted bad _before_ I was killed and reanimated with enhanced senses. Ugh."

"You can remember that?"

"Of course I can."

"I'd thought much of what you had known would have been lost to brain damage after your death."

"It should have been. I don't understand much of what was done to me, but I think I was at that point in death where there is still electricity in the brain, thus preserving my memories and abilities until I was resuscitated and the experimentation began."

Sephiroth shuddered.

"I'm…I'm sorry."

Vincent gave him a surprised look.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I know what it was like to suffer under his scalpel. I had…I had thought that I endured more horrible things than anyone else, at least where he was concerned. Knowing you has taught me that I didn't have to survive anything close to the worst he had to offer."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Vincent said gently. "The things he did to me have, over time, brought me good fortune. What he did to you ended in your untimely death."

"Good fortune?"

Vincent nodded, capping the medicine and handing it to Sephiroth to be put back on the nightstand. He toyed with the moogle in his lap.

"I have come to terms with your mother's death. I have gained a friend and ally in Chaos, greater friends than I ever knew before in Cloud and the others…I will live for as long as Chaos and I remain as one, allowing me to be guardian and protector to those I hold dear, and their children. I can go where I want, when I want, and I can see the places I never saw before. Wouldn't you call that good fortune?"

"But-"

"Have you ever heard the saying 'every cloud has a silver lining'?"

"The only Cloud I've ever seen the lining of just bled red. No silver lining," Sephiroth said, only being half serious.

"You know what I mean," Vincent grumbled. "Hand me the soup. I have to try it."

"Why?"

"Because Tifa went to the trouble of making it and bringing it up here for me, and that deserves at least an attempt."

Sephiroth sighed gustily and handed a bowl to Vincent. He put his own bowl in his lap and glared at it. Vicnent ignored him and focused on his own soup.

The day passed in Sephiroth's arms. The soup didn't stay down for long, but another try late that afternoon did. Vincent's fever faded slowly. By nightfall, it had gone completely.

Sephiroth was gone when Vincent woke up, but there was a note on the nightstand.

_Two days from now, I expect you to fulfill your promise and spend the day with me. I'll come pick you up in the morning, as Seth. Be ready by nine._

Vincent sighed and folded the note, tucking it under his pillow to be disposed of later.

Two days later, Vincent spent far too much time primping in front of the mirror after his shower. He caught himself halfway through his third inspection of his hair and stopped, staring at his reflection, hands planted on his hips.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" he asked himself.

_I'd say you're getting ready for a hot date._

Vincent jumped. Chaos had been quiet for the past two days, and his sudden comment was unexpected.

"It's not a date, Chaos, and you know it. It's just…a necessary part of keeping Sephiroth from doing anything stupid."

_Since when does keeping him from doing stupid things require parting your hair twice, changing the style, braiding it, taking the braid out, putting it up in a tail, and ultimately leaving it down in the same style you had twenty minutes ago?_

"I'm keeping him happy. It's very clear that he's trying to take me out on a date, so if I act appropriately and put a little thought into how I look, then he'll think that he did well and that's one more hissy fit I won't have to deal with."

_I think you just want to make sure you're looking your best._

"Am I not allowed to look good?"

_There's good, and then there's 'look at me, I made myself pretty so you would fuck me again', and that's what you're doing._

"I don't need your opinion, thank you."

"Vincent!" Tifa called from somewhere downstairs. "Seth is here for you!"

_I don't liiiiiike this._

"You don't have to." He checked his reflection one last time, then turned away from the mirror and hurried downstairs.


End file.
